


A Soul Of Ice And Fire

by AnnaLiss17



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family Secrets, Forbidden Love, Lady (ASoIaF) Lives, Murder, Mystery, No Wights, Sibling Incest, Violence, White Walkers, direwolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2019-11-19 08:26:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 27
Words: 43,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18133322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaLiss17/pseuds/AnnaLiss17
Summary: A/U: The boys have heard many stories about the Forbidden Forest.Some say it is where you step in and never come back as it is a gate between the living and the dead. Others claim it to be the home of the wildlings and the wildest animals and a few of them claimed to hear their howl at night. But the elders have the most interesting story about it. They say it is both, a gate and home for the wildest, not to wildlings or other beasts, but to the White Walkers.As far as the stories go, the Forbidden Forest is where some White Walkers lose themselves from the rest as it is a gate between the living and what is beyond the Wall. They are said to be wandering around looking for new victims to fill the loneliness as well as the army with new members and that with a single touch to your skin... they can make you one of theirs.When Rickon Stark gets touched by one, he remains unchanged. Trying to discover what's so special about him, he learns that he actually has five siblings and not three...





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bran gives his brother an unforgetable gift for his birthday.

"We shouldn't."

"We shouldn't indeed."

Bran and Rickon smiled at each other, knowing that they are going to do it anyway, and ran. The Forbidden Forest, if the name is any clue, is not allowed to be stepped through without the permission of their Lord Father, the Lord of Winterfell. Many have shared their opinions on why, but never has their father confirmed or denied them. The boys have heard many stories about the Forbidden Forest.

Some say it is where you step in and never come back as it is a gate between the living and the dead. Others claim it to be the home of the wildlings and the wildest animals and a few of them claimed to hear their howl at night. But the elders have the most interesting story about it. They say it is both, a gate and home for the wildest, not to wildlings or other beasts, but to the White Walkers.

As far as the stories go, the Forbidden Forest is where some White Walkers lose themselves from the rest as it is a gate between the living and what is beyond the Wall. They are said to be wandering around looking for new victims to fill the loneliness as well as the army with new members and that with a single touch to your skin... they can make you one of theirs.

Ever since he learned how to read, Rickon had been more than interested in them. Although there was nothing about them in Winterfell's libraries and most people he had asked refused to talk about them claiming the White Walkers are nothing but a rumor, all that he learned he did from the eldest people in the North. What he knows more is that they can be taken down with either fire or dragonglass, in rest, he is in the fog about them just as much as everyone else is.

And he craved more.

He couldn't tell when it started.

Perhaps, as he pointed as a joke out during a dinner with his family, he was destined to become one and that was why he was so obsessed with them now, so he would know in the future his strengths and weaknesses and how to use them. His mother didn't laugh. Actually, she nearly slapped him for saying that, but she held herself back at the last moment. His father's warning stare helped his cause too.

She harshly told him to go to his room, with a blush in her cheeks, and not to come out until he is told to, embarrassed that a servant had been there to see the unpleasant moment. His mother had never been the type to joke around or take them too kindly if they are not from the King himself or her Lord husband, but Rickon had never seen her this upset before.

And he had witnessed her anger when she caught his brother climbing again after she told him not to just a moment before, scene which had him shaking in his hiding corner and Bran severely punished. The bloody joke also cost him some delicious cakes, having them eaten by someone else other than him. Bummer. After that event, he kept everything to himself... excepting his older brother Bran.

They are the only Stark children left in Winterfell and they trusted each with everything. All they had was each other since the other children rarely played with them fearing they might hurt the Lord's only sons and have their families pay the price. Their half brother left for the Wall a couple of years ago and their sister ran away many years ago, never to be heard from again. He rarely writes and she never does.

Knowing very well his brother's interest drew more to the White Walkers and much less to anything else, for his twelvth birthday as a gift, Bran took him to the Forbidden Forest. So, they could explore it together and see which myths are true and which are false. The two boys ran towards it as they run towards the lake during the hottest days of Summer. He was smiling and Rickon was laughing.

"Now, remember." Bran felt the need to bring his brother back, for he seemed to happy to care anymore the danger they could run into if they are not careful. "If we separate, we keep calling our code names until we reunite. If you run into a wildling, run, if you run into a wild animal and you can't kill it, run. And if you run into a White Walker..." Rickon had been on them for so long, even Bran began to believe in their existence.

"Run even faster." The younger brother replied, smiling so bright that the sun could be mistaken as a shadow. The weather itself wasn't looking too good... The sun was barely seen on the sky these days and the usual cold in the North turned even worse for the last years. Winter is not only coming, winter is almost here.

If he had ever tasted true happiness before, then now he was in Heaven. Clutching his dragonglass blade in one hand, while trying to keep the pace with his brother, Rickon wanted to laugh with joy. Instead, he kept his mouth closed and let his smile speak for himself in fear that the sound of his laugh might attract the wild animals to them. Stopping after a good while of running, the elder brother glanced around their surroundings.

Bran had simply agreed to bring his brother here only because he doesn't expect them to run into anything other than a wild animal or two. He wasn't exactly a master with the bow, but if it is close enough he could kill it. To be entirely honest, he wanted to explore this forest too. Simply because he was told he was not allowed to. And even more of that, he had a dream... A dream which he had not shared with anyone yet.

He was in the same forest he is now, at the same place he is now, and he was with a wolf... A wolf that did not look like any other wolf he had ever seen before, the wolf was much bigger in size and much scarier than a bear. And strangely enough, Bran was not afraid. Even though the wolf was much bigger than him, the Stark boy was not scared... because the wolf was not threatening him.

The wolf laid down at his feet and rubbed its head against his face and chest in a gesture of affection. The wolf seemed to like him very much, although they just met. And Bran felt an instant connection, he felt he would be safe and protected with the wolf at his side. He felt he had a new friend. After waking up, he quickly drew on a paper the place he was at in his dream and then told his brother his intention to take him to see the Forbidden Forest.

"Disappointed?" Bran asked his younger brother. He detested being the one ruining his little brother's great expectations by bringing him to a boring forest since it didn't seem to be anything more than that. Just lots and lots of trees and vegetations, a small pond he knew where to find from his dream, and rocks.

"Not even a little." Rickon shook his head. "Thank you, brother. This is the best birthday I've had so far." And he meant it. Being here meant more to him than receiving any other gifts like books, or new clothes, although the dagger he received from his father was very welcomed. He didn't receive toys anymore since he was thought too old to play with them. "Where do we start? Where do we go?"

The elder brother took out a piece of paper and unfolded it. The youngest Stark only saw a drawing, a messy one, and nothing more. His brother seemed to understand more from it since he began to walk, as if he knew the road, taking turns here and there, stopping for a few seconds before going again. The child's cheeks turned red, his mind racing with thoughts of betrayal. "Have you been here before?"

"Only in my dreams." It was the only reply he got. They kept walking in silence. Now that Bran found the place, all he needs to do is to find the wolf. With the wolf by their side their chance of escaping alive in case a white walker attacks will be multiplied. While very pleased with his conquest progress, Bran had to remind himself he had a little brother to watch out for.

"What is that?" Rickon cried out of a sudden, the sound of his voice scaring off a few birds not used to any kind of noise in a dead silence. What he saw must've deeply attracted, shocked, surprised or any kind of emotion one does not feel on daily basis because the young boy darted away from his brother and ran towards what it was that he saw. Bran tried his best to follow him, but it felt like he was trying to outrun a horse.

Taking a turn to the left after one tree, Rickon completely disappeared out of his sight and by the time Bran got there his brother was long gone and someone else was there instead... The bad news is that he lost his little brother to a forest they were forbidden to step in on his birthday and he might certainly die by sundown. The good news is that Bran finally met face to face with the wolf from his dreams.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An encounter with a White Walker leaves them with a surprising reveal.

 Setting aside his bow and blade slowly lowering to the ground, he raised both of his hands as soon as they were free. "We are connected you and I." Bran breathed out. He knew. He knew the wolf will not harm him. And the wolf knew that he would not hurt him either. Tentatively, his right arm reached out trying to pet the beast. It was so big and scary if one wasn't careful they could end up with the entire arm bitten off. 

The wolf bared his fangs just for a moment before he calmed down and bowed his head allowing the hand to touch his fur. Bran's fears were nothing compared to the strong bond he felt towards the direwolf before him. And when the wolf's head raised back up and met his human's eyes, Bran knew they were meant to find each other and be together. A single name whisper was swept into the air. "Summer..."

"Summer. Can you help me find my brother?" The wolf tilted his head and recognized the name before he howled so loud, the young lord had a feeling some people from Winterfell heard it too. It took a while, but eventually another howl was barely heard from somewhere very far. "Another one? Rickon's? Now, I wonder if Jon had one too... And the sister we've never met."

From his dreams he could've sworn there is only Summer. Did Rickon have the same dream? No, it couldn't be. He would've confided with his brother about it. Where do these wolves come from anyway? Despite how big they are, or at least Summer is, they look and sound like two pups who got separated from the pack somewhere along the way. "What happened to you?" Bran knew it didn't matter anymore what happened.

What matters from now is how he is going to help Summer and the other wolf reunite with their pack. His dreams did not leave him alone until he decided to act upon them and they led him here. As the direwolf is his house's symbol, the only possible and logical explanation is that he has to help these two wolves find their way back to their family. Therefore, the past is not important anymore, but the future... the future and their future actions.

He only hoped that Rickon will survive long enough for Summer to take on his smell and find him. And he hoped even harder that wherever he is right now, he is safe.

* * *

 Letting out a long and wild cry, Rickon got tackled to the ground by the wolf before he had the chance to jump on him himself. It was as if they read the other's mind and knew they wanted to do the same thing. "You're so cute!" The young lord laughed, his hands fumbling with the black fur. The wolf happily licked his face in return. They were almost as two best friends who hadn't seen each other in years just reunited.

"Where is your master, boy?" The wolf tilted his head again a sad look in his eyes. "Hey, if you don't have one I can take you back to Winterfell with me." For such a big scary beast this wolf was very warm around him and apparently got very attached to him in the single minute they've spent together. Rickon knew he couldn't leave him alone in this forest anymore. Not after they've bonded.

"I'll hide you in my room, no one will know. Well, no one but Bran. He is my brother and I tell him everything. Don't worry, he won't give us out. If anything, he'll help me because I am his little brother. And cute too." Curly brown hair and big blue eyes come in handy sometimes. "Show me your puppy face. Great. No one will say no to us. I'll call you Shaggydog. Is that alright? Do you like the name? Shaggydog it is then."

Shaggydog suddenly jumped ahead and growled loudly, paws upfront, body lowered ready to attack. "What's the matter, boy?" Where did that big sweet wolf go? Why was he growling at the bushes? "There is nothing there, boy. It's alright." Yet, Shaggydog wasn't convinced and when the young lord tried to raise from the ground and step up the wolf pushed him back covering him from the view with his body.

Shaggydog kept growling, and even bit into the air as a warning, baring his fangs. His body was shaking, saliva falling from his mouth on the ground forming a puddle. Rickon's eyes grew wide and for a moment he forgot how to breathe when a White Walker came into the view. The Dead Walker was looking even better than what the young lord imagined it to be, he was equally scared and excited to finally see one outside his dreams.

Looking at both of them for one second, the blue eyes more focused on the little human than the beast, it was tackled to the ground by Shaggydog as the wolf jumped and started to tear blindly with his claws and fangs at the Walker. Throwing aside one part, the wolf quickly dived in for another and so on until the upon the ground were spread a piece of its chest, a part of its arm, a few ribs, an eye, and its jaw.

Pulling back from the Dead, the wolf went back to Rickon and rubbed its head against the little lord's cheek once again an innocent pup. Approaching the Walker, concerned of its state (now that he found one he needed to be sure it is dead to be at peace and relieved he eliminated a threat) for a short tense moment Rickon's blue eyes looked over it. He was sad and happy at the same time, confused, yet excited.

People would have been mortified and would have killed even their most loved ones just to see a dragon again these days. But not the little lord. Shaggydog's fangs impaled on his cloak and dragged him back as the remaining eye of the Walker opened again. With a piercing, high pitched, cry and wilder than before as if a fire awakened in it, the Walker reached out and grabbed Rickon's arm.

The twelve-year old's scream was even louder and higher than the Walker's cry. He fought to pull away from the iron touch, but it was simply too strong. Chains would be weak compared to a Walker's grip. The wolf howled in pain too, yet he was unharmed.

The Dead cried out again, their voices being one, and began to burn from inside out, the grip weakening significantly until Rickon was able to free himself and crawl back watching with his wide blue eyes as it burned to ashes. A dragonglass blade was impaled on its back. Finally looking up, he was so relieved to see his brother he could've cried, noticing that he was not alone, but with a wolf at his side too.

Bran ran to him, kneeling onto the ground as the two wolves joined each other again. "I'm so sorry! Shaggydog was calling me and he was alone and I wanted to keep him company and he is playful and his fur is so soft and his eyes are so big..."

"You insolent, bloody idiot!" Bran had tears in his eyes too which made Rickon sob even harder. "I have to kill you, now! The White Walker touched you! What were you thinking? Is it worth giving your life away for a minute of having the pleasure to see your dreams come true? Do you have any idea, do you realize in the slightest what have you just done?!"

He didn't want to... by the Seven Gods he didn't want to kill his little brother. It was his fault. Everything was his fault! Rickon was just a young boy overtaken by his dreams and desire to meet the White Walkers. It was Bran's stupid idea to bring him here and now if he turns...

The wolf with the black fur comes back to them. He grabs the younger's brother arm in his mouth gently. "Hey! Not now, Shaggydog..." Trying to shake it free, the sleeve burned by the Walker's touch is revealed to be... just the same as it was. No hint of snowy blue skin, red with warm and blood pumping in it normally as it should be. "Bran. My arm is fine..."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The young Lord has a very interesting dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italics, past. 
> 
> Bold italics, Bran's thoughts.

"Why is my arm fine? Why did I not turn? He touched me! He did! Didn't he?" How come he was worried and not happy. He should be happy. Should he? "I am so confused..."

If Rickon himself was confused, Bran had long ago stopped understanding what was happening. They sat in silence and waited, both pairs of eyes staring at the visible skin through the ripped tunic. Perhaps it has a slow effect and it needs time to act upon humans? It was worth considering. They stared for quite a while and remained silent neither knowing what to say or what to do next.

Until now the White Walkers themselves had been a myth Bran chose to believe in. Today, he learned not only that they are very real (and in addition to that just as dangerous), but that his little brother seems to be immune to their touch... how can one attempt to find a cure when one doesn't even know what is the diagnosis? They didn't even know if this was a good thing or a bad thing.

All they knew for sure was that this was not normal..... but then again, what is normal in their lives?

It wasn't until his wolf howled loudly throwing his head back that Bran realized they have been gone for so long the sky turned from clean blue to blood red. They needed to leave... "You're right, Summer. We need to get out of here." Why keep gawking at inches of skin in a forest full of danger and risk their lives when they can gawk in their warm and safe rooms at Winterfell?

"Will you show us the way out?" He ran his hand through the soft fur, showing his affection and gratitude for keeping them alive. "Say your farewells." He told his little brother, still petting the direwolf. He didn't need to turn his head to know Rickon was surprised and entirely against that. "He can't come back with us. Neither Summer." They would have no good motive anyway.

Direwolves don't just jump out of the bushes. The people will get terrified at their sight and either live in fear or cause a riot. Their father would know right away where they had been and probably remove their titles and declare them both unfit to rule. After that would follow a severe and long timed punishment from their mother, who would refuse to speak with them or even look at them in any other way than angrily.

"But we've bonded!" Rickon cried defiantly, curling around Shaggydog. His fur was warm, soft and ticklish. "Look at him!" At the signal, the two of them looked at Bran with sad nearly teared up eyes. Bran was not moved, so the younger brother tried something else and changed from sad to upset. "Give me one good reason!"

Oh, ho. Bran had _plenty_ of good reasons. "He's bigger than you." The first and most obvious. "If he curls his body around yours he could fully cover you from sight." Therefore, keeping him in a room, the elder brother suspected the younger already thought about that and decided it's a good plan, was nearly impossible. Unless everyone in the North was blind. "We can't keep them in Winterfell."

Exposing themselves and where they went might put the direwolves in danger as well. They were able to survive all this time because they were free and not hunted, allowed to go wherever they pleased whenever they pleased without ever being bothered or held back. As a comforting gesture, smiling softly, Bran put his hand on his brother's shoulder and waited until the little one decided to look up at him.

"But that doesn't mean we can't come back to see them." Rickon's smile lit up his face.

_In that night, Bran Stark did not dream of the pond or the Forbidden Forest anymore for the first time in the last two years. Neither of the wolf nor being one with the wolf. Instead, he was transported somewhere else, some place he did not recognize, but felt very familiar. He felt safe and... at home. Wandering around the area, looking around for answers or just anyone else, he realized he was still in the North._

_Wintertown, to be more exact. He recognized the well where people stop to throw a coin for good luck... Rickon usually dives in to pick them up while Bran is watching out for him and whoever might discover them. People have long forgotten it has no water in it anymore, yet the habit stayed... It was so strange to be in a village roaming with people most of the times, full of life and chatter, all by yourself._

_"What are you doing?"_

_Jumping up slightly, startled at the sudden voice, strongly believing that he was all alone, the little lord slowly turned around to face an older man. He was younger than his father, strangely similar physically speaking, but older and taller than Bran was. Given the clothes he was wearing, he must be a noble. Not many commoners carry a sword around either._

_Bran wondered how far in time he had gone since he knew all the lords and ladies in the North by heart (not his best achievement in life, not something worth to brag about, and definitely not a good side of the noble life where not to cause a war or a rebellion you have to know everyone and treat them as if they are all very important to you) and he had never seen this man before._

_"The people say if you throw a coin and make a wish it comes true. I want to try." The young lord jumped again, startled again, this time by a feminine voice. When he turned around there was another person present, a girl with long red hair, pale skin, blue eyes, radiant in one word. She was holding a coin above the well, and her gown up with her free hand. Her dress was far too pretty for her to be a commoner._

_What truly frightened him was just how much she resembled his mother. Absolutely petrifying. It made him take a few steps back. The young man looked at the coin held by the soft fingers. "And what do you wish for?"_

_"I am not telling you." Both boys sighed in a slight annoyance simultaneously. "If I do, then it won't become true." Wasn't that a story for children? **Wishes aren't true. If they were, the world would've been a better place.**_

_"Or maybe I can make it come true and you won't have to waste a coin you might have great need for someday." He said stepping towards her, passing right through Bran and stopped when the only space between them was the well itself._

_She looked at him, her hand attempting to go up, but lowering before it could be an obvious movement. Her eyes fell on the ground, her voice small and slightly trembling. "You know what I want..." Bran felt his cheeks warming and more shame than heat for he knew he was witnessing a private moment._

_The young man looked away and around as if checking for other people, people who might be hidden, his look hardening as well. "Not here. Not now." He mumbled, refusing to face her again. "Let's go back to the castle and we'll speak there at night if we have the chance."_

_"Robb..."_

_"Sansa..." You could read in his eyes that there was no room left for argument. For some reason, he became very tense in a very short time. "I mean it." Bran didn't know what to believe anymore. "Let's go home."_

_But Sansa did not move. She shook her head and stood her ground. "I don't want to." She looked at Robb with tears in her eyes. "I don't want to pretend anymore. And if throwing a stupid coin might change our fate in our favor then I will empty the whole bag."_

_It was another tensed moment, but short-lived. Just as quickly as he became angry, his entire body softened. **Women and their strange powers...** "Neither do I." Robb told her softly. "But you know we can't. We are going to lose our heads or worse... we might be separated for life." His hand went up to her chin, forcing her to look in his eyes and nowhere else. "No one must ever know."_

_The Bran was thrown back again, somewhere else away from this scene. The images were flashing before his eyes, he was engulfed in darkness and his head hurt so bad it felt as if his brain was being squeezed from the inside. He barely managed to catch a glimpse of a gloved hand in a dark room furiously trying to erase, or destroy, something from a book._

Gasping for breath, Bran woke up covered in sweat.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys uncover a secret that leaves them with more questions than answers.

"Why do you hate me, brother?" The young boy asked, tiredly rubbing his eyes more asleep than awake. The only reasonable motive for Rickon to be woken up from his beautiful sleep in the middle of the night, when probably even Shaggydog is snoring right now, and forced to leave his warm furs and warm room for the castle's cold halls would be that he is hated by his elder brother.

Apparently, Bran was secretly an owl because he was far more energetic and awake at this late hour than it was allowed to. He was dragging him down the halls and into the depth of the castle, to the Maester's crafting room, where the heat was less and the cold was prominent even in the hottest day. At that hour, Rickon was certain he could fall asleep while standing up if he tried hard enough.

Bran's brother couldn't see him roll his eyes, it was dark and the candlelight was very weak compared to the sunlight, which perhaps it was better. The point was not to have useless arguments about small nothings, the point was that he needed to find the birth records and two pairs of tired eyes are much better than one.

Going through the books detailing the history of the noble Northen Houses including the lineage and appearance of all heirs on his own would be terrible... With Rickon by his side, he will have at least someone to go mad with. He often heard from his father how one can climb a mountain on his own and feel sorrow and alone or he could cross the seas with a friend twice and never feel dejected.

"Hush, now." The elder brother whispered. "And try to be quiet." He hadn't had the time to come up with a good cover story if they are found. He needed to know who the two from his dream are. If his first dreams about the Forbidden Forest led him to learn of his brother's immunity against the White Walkers touch and the two direwolves, who knows what the two of them might help him uncover.

Knowing that Maester Luwin never locks his assigned rooms except for his personal chambers, getting inside Winterfell's archives was easy... reading through all the piles of books stacked upon endless shelves which they hadn't expected to see, definitely won't.

...

"Why do you hate me, brother?"

* * *

After hours of reading, changing quite the number of burned out candles, Rickon was pretty sure if anyone asked him anything about Winterfell's history or former houses or family trees he will be able to respond precisely from this day until the day he dies. And even in death, he will greet it narrating the delightful history of House Maddox from the first son until the last one.

"Remind me again why are we looking for two people in books when we should be looking for them outside these walls?" Looking through the books not fun. Going out for an adventure to find the ones they are looking for? Now, that would be fun! Apparently, he was the only one who believed so.

"For all I know, they might be dead. They might have lived thousands of years ago or they might still be alive. These books are a safer path, indeed a larger one." Wouldn't it be lovely if everything was easy?

"And far more boring." Rickon added for himself, diving yet for another book. "At least this one doesn't look boring. Finally one I can flip through the pages without ripping them out." Unfortunately, House Maddox's history suffered a bit when his fingers gripped the page too hard and House Tymber's page suffered the same fate as its members at the Targaryen's hands when he pushed the book a little too close to the candle.

"Hand it over for a moment." Bran knew something was not right when his little brother showed interest in a book without a blade against his neck. Taking it quickly and flipping through the pages, his eyes widened as the pages were much rougher at touch, thicker and found the writing to be very intelligible. For a supposedly ancient book, it was very... new.

Turning back to read the cover his initial shock doubled over it when he read it was the same book which held House Stark's history. His head began to ache as he quickly flipped the pages until he found his father's name.

"I dare not to ask what are you doing here in fear of never seeing this again." The boys jumped apart with a gasp, simultaneously turning to see Maester Luwin at the door one hand on the handle the other holding a lantern. A soft smile on his wrinkled face. "And I will simply tell you to carry on... unless you spent the night over here. Then I find myself forced to ask and I insist for an honest response."

Bran opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Giving a quick glance at the barred window he realized it was already morning... So focused on finding out who were the boy and girl from his dream, so focused on the world inside his mind that he forgot about the outside world. The real world.

"I was falling behind with my lessons and I didn't want to tell anyone. I didn't want to risk having my father know that I am not good with our house history and make him feel ashamed with me. My brother was the only one whom I knew I could ask for help and not to tell anyone else about it. Oh, and... some Houses' history ended today for good at my hand... sorry."

In all honesty, Bran Stark could say that he never felt happier to have a little brother more than he did at that moment. The way he lied so sweetly, giving out one of his best _I am small and I couldn't keep up_ excuses, Bran knew there was no way the Maester won't believe them. "It's alright." Maester Luwin reassured him. "I expected such thing to happen, but at my own old hands. You did no harm, my lord."

Rickon gave him a sly grin as Maester Luwin continued. "These are only copies. Very well done indeed... sometimes they manage to fool even me. The original ones are hidden in another archive secured by several locks and only your lord father and I hold the true keys... I'll leave you to carry on. Forgive my interruption."

As the Maester retreated with a slight bow and a small proud smile on his face, closing the door, the younger brother waited exactly three breathes before sharply turning to the elder an excited look on his face. "There you go. And I think I might know where that archive is. You are not the only one who likes to explore the castle. I'll take the key after supper and then we can keep searching."

"You'll help me further? Knowing that we're risking very much just being there?... You do know that, right?"

Rickon simply shrugged. What's the worst thing that can happen to them if they are caught? Get exiled from the North? Get exiled and separated? "You're my brother. I don't care if I fall as long as I fall with you."

* * *

 A couple of hours after everyone important went to sleep, everyone important as in their parents and their septa, after falling himself asleep a little, Bran was violently shaken awake by his little brother who jumped back and showed him the key. "How did you get that?... Do I even want to know how did you get that?" His senses tell him that he doesn't.

Rickon simply shrugged. "Maester Luwin is old, I'm young. He slow and I'm not... I have a direwolf, he doesn't." His brother jumped up about to yell at him when he quickly added. "Don't worry, he is not dead. Shakes just a little more than usual... and I was careful. Shaggydog did everything, I just sneaked behind him and stole the key... You don't tend to notice other humans when a direwolf's around..."

Anyone would shake a little more than usual after being tackled to the ground after being already scared by the low but intense growls under the impression that there are eyes out there watching every single move you make just waiting for you to make a mistake... Bran's eyes narrowed at him, still not convinced. "Shaggydog listens to me. He is a good boy!" A good boy who scared an old man half to death.

Bran sighed and threw the furs aside. "Let's just go." There was no point in waiting anymore or protesting anymore. He couldn't exactly go to apologize and he couldn't stay still... the key needs to be returned. Allowing himself to be lead by his little brother, they went to the castle's part that no one ever goes to. One he had even forgotten it existed and probably did so many more others.

He remembers Jon's room was this way. Being a bastard, not only he wasn't allowed to stay next to them at the high table during feasts, but he wasn't allowed a room near his highborn siblings either... He remembers Jon better than he remembers Arya, Arya ran away when he was only one year old, Jon left for the Wall two years ago, but as he keeps growing up not the memories with Jon start to fade, but his face and how he looked.

It wasn't something he could stop even though Bran wished wholeheartedly that he knew how to. Jon didn't deserve to be forgotten by his ungrateful little brothers... abruptly stopped from his thoughts, nearly bumping into his little brother and knocking him off his feet, he saw the locked and concluded that they reached their destination.

They didn't have to try the door too hard or too many times, aged locks easy to pick, neither did they spent too much time looking for the said book. What indeed took stupidly, insanely, long was flipping the pages until they found... "House Stark. Not long from now. Search father's name in case I miss it."

"You said you saw two names crossed out." Rickon voiced his confusion. "Why would they be in the original book if they were crossed out and a copy without them was remade? It doesn't make sense..." 

"Maester Luwin said it himself. He is old and the books are so well done they might even fool him." Bran replied softly. "I believe they did and what he rewrote was the copy and not the original... Here. House Stark... Lord Eddard Stark son of Rickard Stark. Wife, Lady Catelyn of House Tully. Heirs...Robb Stark... Sansa Stark... Arya Stark..."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon enters the game. Ned and Catelyn plan to leave for King's Landing for Robert's funeral.

In that night, Bran couldn't sleep. Every time he closed his eyes flashbacks of the hand crossing out his actual brother and sister' names out, played in his mind. And then Robb and Sansa at the well, exchanging something about what no one must ever know... Whatever it was that they hid it was big. Big enough to convince their parents to remove them from the family and the North to play along as if they never existed in the first place...

The first and most dreadful thought was that he was the one who had to uncover the hidden story, learning that he was their little brother, and find who is doing this to him? He had a feeling he won't like the person who keeps sending him these visions or what he'll have to do after they meet properly. 

Then came the obvious questions. What had Robb and Sansa done or what did they know? Where are they now? Are they still alive or not? Did Jon and Arya know them? Is this tied to Arya's choosing to run away? And so many more that made his head ache badly... He drank Essence of the Nightshade which he kept in his drawers ever since he had started having those dreams in the first place.

Usually, it made its effect without any complain or delay. Tonight, however, it couldn't have worked worse if Bran had wanted it to making him regret drinking it. _In his dream this time he kept seeing this young woman cloaked, a hood over her face, holding out a long thin sword pointed at him. "Come and find me..." He kept hearing that, but he didn't what it meant. Is she responsible for his strange dreams? And where should he even look?_

_Then he was back at the pond with Summer. A relieved sigh left his lips as he accepted Summer's comfort. But when he reopened his eyes Summer was gone and replaced by Rickon who was facing the White Walker they killed looking vengeful as ever. "Get away from him!" Bran screamed and screamed and tried to move to get him out of the way, but he fell to the ground unable to feel his own legs anymore. Like he was some kind of cripple out of a sudden..._

_The most peculiar thing that happened was that it was little Rickon who tried to touch the Walker and not the opposite. And when he did, he became one of them... As if their abilities work on reverse with him... they can touch and nothing happens. Or he can touch and become as such_... After that, he was finally allowed to wake up.

The rest of the day occurred as usual with Bran being a good son, but climbing all the time at fearful heights for his age much to his mother's distress and young Rickon creating trouble everywhere he went. He was young and wild and he liked to cause damage when he was bored. Today he found the chickens so satisfying that he freed them all and whistled for the dogs to come.

Watching the dogs chasing the chickens to feast upon them, and the poor people chasing the chickens to have something to put on the table tonight, the owner and the guards running around after them to calm the small animal riot bumping heads with each other quite often and just trying to catch them entertained the young lord enough for the respective day.

His mother wasn't that impressed.

"I don't know why do I keep expecting better from you when the obvious is standing right in front of me." This is how he was greeted before the supposed family meal. His eyes pleaded with his brother for support, but Bran seemed like he was in a completely different world staring at his mother like he was seeing her for the first time. Their father was nowhere to be seen...

Before she could scold him any longer, a servant walked in and handed her a small piece of paper telling her that their father requested her presence at once... it sounded important. After she was gone, the boys had their supper together in silence. Or as silent as Rickon's loud eating tends to be, it's not that he has no manner as much as it is that he likes to be himself. Noble lives aren't for everyone.

"It's like she doesn't know me at all..." The young lord muttered to himself, stuffing everything that contained meat into a bag. "I'm off to see Shaggydog. Meet you later." Throwing the bag over his shoulder, he left without another word. Only after he was gone, Bran registered what happened. He was far too concerned with other matters...

For the sake of his sanity, he needs to find out who keeps giving him these visions and what is his purpose with them. He thought about asking random people if they knew Robb and Sansa but then decided against it. He didn't know what outcome it might have and if the people went so far to erase their existence that they, almost, had them cut from the Book of Legacy... He needed to find someone who didn't give a damn. Someone like...

"Theon!" He found the man at the stables ready to go for a hunt. Theon was never a presence he liked or disliked. He was just there. They never talked, a true lord although very young hardly had anything to share with a grownup ward. He could remember well he hated the man when he was young and did with fierce because he was treated far better than Jon ever will be.

The man was honestly surprised to see the young lord obviously speaking to him. A little taken back and a little annoyed, for he had important tasks to attend. And that was kill, kill and kill. "What is it? I'm very busy for today!"

"Just one quick question and I'll be out of your hair, I promise... I heard these names whispered last night when I was sneaking in the kitchen for something sweet and I found it strange. As if they were scared to be caught speaking of that. And I was wondering if you can tell me anything about them..."

"What were the names?"

"I believe they called them Robb and Sansa..."

Theon paused to think for a moment before he shrugged, shaking his head. "Never heard of them in my life." He finished attaching saddle. "Who knows?" Climbing on his horse, he made one final statement before he rode off. "Women love to gossip and if they have nothing, they invent something."

If Bran wouldn't have known the truth, he would have honestly believed him.

* * *

 "I'm not certain about this... leaving Bran and Rickon alone." They were so young, still in so young in her eyes, perhaps not old enough to join a battle, but certainly young enough that they should not be left alone. Unfortunately, her husband who was not meant to hear her thoughts... did.

"You don't have to join me if you don't want to." Catelyn and Robert never shared a profound bond anyone could tell that with one straight look at the two. They were far too different with too different pleasures and wishes, never matching in the slightest. She held no feelings towards him, neither good nor bad. Still, as the respectful lady she was, she grieved the loss of her King and plans to pay her respects.

Catelyn shook her head decisively. "He was your brother in everything but blood. If I am not by your side in these times than all the times I was would mean nothing to our marriage." Ned needed her now more than he had in a long time, she cannot follow her hearts wishes when her husband is in. To lose his friend over a boar attack... she cannot imagine what must be going through his head.

Ned nodded at her words and kissed her forehead softly, wrapping one arm around her shoulders, pulling her to his chest. "I'll call the boys and let them know we're leaving for King's Landing." He muttered in her ear.

Theon smirked to himself listening at the door. Wanting to inform them about Bran mentioning the ones who are not to be mentioned, he learned instead that Winterfell is going to be eased by the Lord and Lady and possibly most of the important men in their army.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Starks are betrayed.

_"I found them right here."_

_"Seven Gods..."_

_Close by the dead stag, there was a female direwolf. She was also dead, her pups anything but. Newborn, small and now unprotected with the only mother they've ever known gone, each pup scattered away in a different direction already trying to find a way to survive in this world. It took them a while to find the others and after some time of more searching, finding no other pup, they assumed the ones they found are all._

_Jon was the first one who spotted the first pup, together with Robb and Theon. They went to tell the Lord about this, not knowing that they were holding a true direwolf in their arms. Calling for Sir Rodrik and Jory they searched the area for the other pups to see if they were more and that is when they found the stag and the grown direwolf with the stag's antler broken off in her throat._

_It was the birth that ended her life. She fought the stag bravely and would have survived if it weren't for her children, choosing them over her own life. Robb would not allow them to be killed and her sacrifice to be in vain while there is something he can do about it. "Father, can we keep them?" There are no other direwolves south the Wall and they are too small to manage on their own. They need protection._

_Ned seemed to consider his plead, but his mind was still lingering on giving them a quick merciful death rather than becoming their new warden, until Jon spoke up as well, providing back up for his brother. The pup in his arms nuzzled against his chest. "There are five pups, Lord Stark. I believe it is a good sign, your house sigil is a direwolf, perhaps you will have five children as well." [1]_

_"Four. One of them is probably for you." Jon learned with years being fooled and gotten in eventual humiliating situations that what comes out of Theon's mouth sounding like a friendly tease is anything but friendly. "The one who shouldn't be there." And the smile on his face was not any friendlier._

_"You'll feed them yourselves, all five of them, you'll bathe them yourselves and if they die you'll bury them yourselves." Ned said it firmly after considering Jon's words, obvious that if they want them so badly having outside help with them would be absolutely forbidden, a direwolf being no pet to keep yourself company. Bran couldn't be happier with his brothers for saving them._

_Afterward, he found himself inside a room at Winterfell one that seemed and felt familiar. As if he had been there before. He sees his sister opening the door and their brother stepping in with a pup cuddled against his chest wrapped in his cloak. "Sansa. I have a present for you."_

_Her blue eyes shine in the sunlight penetrating through the window, her facing lighting up as well, a beautiful smile on her lips and a soft gasp. "You shouldn't have... Robb, she's beautiful!" He gently hands her the pup and she cuddles it immediately against her own chest. "Look at her, she's so small and furry. Where did you find her? Hello, there!"_

_"I assumed you'll like her best. We found five pups and convinced father to keep them." Robb seems pleased with her reaction. "I named my boy, Greywind. Men usually name their swords, I thought if you can't have one I can give you something closer to you." If Bran wouldn't know already they were siblings, he would say by the look on his brother's face that he is in love and trying to court her._

_Sansa already had a name for her. "Lady..." She frees one arm to hug him tightly. "Robb, thank you, thank you, thank you!"_

_"...Anything for you."_

_Ripped apart again, ripped through time, ripped to pieces, for probably the thousandth time Bran found himself inside the Forbidden Forest. It was night and for some reason, there was a terrible smell in the air, Summer and Shaggydog ran by him and didn't even stop. As if he was not there, but his ghost was. They seemed... not scared, worried. There was the three-eyed raven watching him._

_He wanted to follow the path they came from, but at the first step, as soon as his foot touched the ground, he was in another place and another time once again. He recognized easily Winterfell's cells, but they were hardly ever occupied. And if they were, it was certainly not going to last too long. Much to his shock, Robb was inside one, chained and a defeated look on his face..._

_Robb seemed like one of the good guys as Bran had seen so far. Summer was cool and he saved Summer. What had he done so bad? He looks like he had just lost everything and everyone and his home burned down... steps begin to echo in the hallways. Robb raises his head slowly, looking at his visitor with pained eyes. "...Why?"_

"Are you alright, Bran? Did you sleep well last night?" Ever since he discovered the meaning behind the Forbidden Forest for him, Bran's dreams have been affecting him more and more. Last night's one left him unable to sleep again... His father noticed only today what has been bothering him for years... "I'm afraid I can't begin this morning as well with good news and make you feel better. I'm sorry." 

"Your father and I have to leave for King's Robert funeral." His mother continues for him.

"Are Rickon and I coming as well?" They never met the King, funerals are boring, there is no food or good music... but this is their father's best friend.

Ned and Catelyn shared an uncertain look. They have debated it over and over again, but today was the lasting decision going to be made. Ned slowly shakes his head. "There must always be a Stark in Winterfell. Rickon is too young to be left alone and you seem to be better at taming his wild nature than I am. I'll only take my men, bannermen and some loyal people with me."

"Am I to become Lord of Winterfell in your absence?" The only thing he didn't need right now was to become a lord. Not when an entire history happened before he was born and he was the one who had to uncover it, although with them gone away he could snoop around for other clues as much as it would please. Up until now, he hadn't discovered much... only that there is no one you can truly put your trust in.

"Lord of Winterfell. And Warden of The North." Ned pauses and watches his son carefully for any sign of discomfort or displeasure, even anger, for this is no easy title on a thirteen year old's shoulders. "Until I return. Sir Rodrik, Maester Luwin, Theon Greyjoy and many more will be by your side to guard you and guide you." Filling his absence with the presence of the others might help his son more than he thinks.

"I will not be as good as you, father. But I will try my best." His father nods at his words, pleased with them and with the honesty behind them. Bran knows nothing about ruling he had seen his father doing it, but he had never done it himself. For his father to impress him and make him proud, he'll do his best to keep the North under control... Perhaps he could sneak the direwolves in too...

The days pass and the time for his parents to leaves comes much faster than he expected it to, they said their goodbyes as their mother hugs them for a little bit longer than she usually does and their father's words of encouragement on how well he believes they'll handle themselves are enough to melt the snow around them if turned to bits of heat.

They leave Winterfell in that day, on horseback, their banners with their house sigil standing high and leave behind them dust and a cold wind blow. Bran stands outside and watches the path they left on longer than the others, but once he gets inside he sits at the high table and begins to do everything his father said he is to do with the Maester by his side the whole time advising him and helping him make a final decision.

_In that night he sees Robb and Sansa again. Under a tree surrounded by flowered branches with their wolves running around them, the sun shining on their faces, he gifts her a pendant and she takes it. She leans in to kiss him and he lets her..._

Shaken awake, Bran is more than ready to yell at whoever dared to do that to him just when he was about to find out more of the story and put the pieces together to discover the full puzzle. He glares at Maester Luwin, who always has the best intentions and interests, but the worst timing.

"Winterfell is under attack. You must take your brother and run!.. We... We've been betrayed."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 - I know there are (were) six direwolves and not five. I wrote it like that on purpose.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bran and Rickon leave Winterfell.

"Why Theon?" Shortly after Maester Luwin's warning some ironborn burst in his room, dragging his little brother with them, catching them redhanded. The Maester was whisked out, but the boys weren't granted the same thing and they were left alone inside Bran's room with the prince.

"Because I can." The smug smile on his face died pretty quickly afterward, becoming very serious instead. Bran wasn't sure which Theon he liked better. Smug or serious. "Because I have to. This has never been my place. My home. I never asked to be here... yet your family took me anyway. From my family, from my heritage, from everything that meant me."

"Why not just go back to your homeland?" Rickon asked from behind his brother. He had a hard time keeping up with the chain of events unleashing one after another and he doesn't stand well with betrayals. Theon looks at him as if he sees not a twelve year old boy, but a long time friend whom he had thought dead. His features softened. Bran can see in his eyes the internal conflict.

He would feel bad for him if the man wouldn't hold their lives in his hands. "Not after the humiliation my family suffered. Not after my brothers being murdered. I can't go back empty-handed." This is when Bran realizes Theon waited for his mother and father to leave to gather his forces and he is the one who faked an attack at Torrhen's Square to get rid of the others so the castle would be unprotected.

"Are you going to murder us?" Is this how Brandon Stark's life ends? Dead by Theon Greyjoy's command just as he learned of his unknown brother and sister incest. What about Rickon then? Is he going to pull little Rickon into the arms of the Stranger as well?  It feels as an entire life passes before he gets a final answer.

"No." The ironborn shook his head and went to the window staring at the dark sky. "I owe you that much..." He sighed. A deep sadness in his eyes. "Both of you have to wait for a few weeks and pretend to go on with your lives normally. We've killed all the ravens in case someone tries to send a message, but one can never be too sure. So far, only the old man knows what we are up to for he is the one who caught my men's hideout."

"Then, on a night of my choice, I'll set you free and give you enough time to run away. After that, I'll send my men to find you themselves and what they'll do to you is up to them if you are found." He's only following his father's orders. He should kill these boys right here and right now... Yet, he's giving them a chance at life and far more time than anyone else would in his place.

"Where are we supposed to go?" They probably won't be allowed to take too many things, their time is not long and they don't know where their allies lie anymore. Who knows if Theon decides to keep his word until the end or changes his mind and kills them on spot? Bran has to be bigger than the Lord of Winterfell (or former lord actually). He has to be a big brother.

"Anywhere but here. You should be grateful I didn't murder you in your sleep."

"Why are you letting us go if you hate us that much?" Rickon spoke again, making his brother throw him a sharp warning look for pushing their luck. Maester Luwin must be chained by now and they are not. They shouldn't be... and pressing Theon on sensitive matters would do them no good.

The iron born was stoic, expression unreadable, yet his eyes had again that longing as Bran noticed wishing Rickon was someone else. As if he reminded them of someone else. "As I said I owe you that much..." Then he looked at young Bran in the eyes, adding bitterly. "I owe Robb that much." And it was then the young lord understood. His little brother reminded Theon of their older brother.

"I understand you." Rickon told him. "If I were to choose between my family and my wards. I'd definitely chose my family."

Theon left without another word.

Weeks passed, pretending, under the ironborn's watchful eyes, to be what they aren't anymore. Lords. Heirs. Family. The dread installed quickly as the night they were to leave their home once and for all approaches with each day passing. Strangely, Bran didn't have any others dreams about Robb or Sansa or anything else. One night though, he had again a small glimpse of the girl telling him _'Come and find me.'_

And when the time came to go, although he was physically prepared (the dagger he received from his father and his bow packed carefully) mentally he wasn't. He dreaded that he had to leave right as he discovered he had a brother and a sister. He felt he failed his mission before it truly even started. "How much time do we have?"

"At sunrise, I will discover that you have been helped to escape Winterfell. Come along now, you don't have long. We won't take horses or we'll be spotted within minutes."

"You're the one helping us?"

"Who else? I don't trust anybody. And neither should you if you want to outlast the others. Time is precious these days, don't be a fool to waste it." Bran hadn't certainly expected that, but he wasn't complaining either. Theon took them to a road and they walked for a good while before they came to a stop where Theon handed them a map. "Here. I've marked the path for you to follow."

"Don't go to the Wall, that's where my men will start searching first and you'll be caught within a day. Braavos is the best choice. No one from the North will look for you there. I've arranged with someone to take you to White Harbor. After you get there, find a way to get on a boat and never look back again. Don't take this the wrong way, I'm not helping you out, I'm only trying to repay a debt that can never be paid."

"Can you tell me something? As a parting gift for the time we've spent together even if it meant nothing?" Bran found himself pushing his luck because indeed they spent time together, but never got to become friends. Rickon was so tired, he was almost sleeping while standing. If Theon helped them so far, he judged, why wouldn't he respond to his question? "Do you know where Robb and Sansa are?"

He looked away when he answered. "I'm afraid I can't answer that... last time I saw them was when you were just out of your mother's womb." Oh... "Sansa, I have no idea where they sent her. I assume far, far away from here... and Robb. Last time I saw Robb he was to be sent to the Wall. I haven't heard anything about either of them for a very long time."

"Thank you..." Bran muttered quietly.

"How much do you know?" Theon asked him curiously. "How do you know? Doesn't it bother you?"

"It's complicated..." It wasn't worth sharing something about himself that he barely understands. "It doesn't bother me what they did, really. I haven't had the chance to get to know either of them. I am more familiar with the Stranger than I am with them. They are just two people who couldn't be together to me."

The young prince nodded and became very quiet, making courage for himself to ask something in return. "Will you... will you do me a favor? If you meet with Robb. Or Sansa. Or both... Tell them that I'm sorry." Even Rickon seemed awaken by that sudden admission. "Tell them, I'm sorry it ended the way it did and while I can't make up for dooming their futures, remind them I helped you tonight."

"I will. I promise."

"That's him." The ironborn pointed at the wagon full with hay approaching them pulled by one thin horse and cloaked man. "Best of luck and for your sake... I hope we never see each other again."

Getting on the wagon, Rickon immediately fell asleep, but Bran didn't. For the rest of the night, he stared at the castle, the home he was leaving behind watching it become smaller and smaller inside as the distance between the two of them grew bigger and bigger. He leaned back as the first rays of the sun began to shily penetrate through the dark clouds... and he prayed to see the next day.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On their way to Braavos, the boys run into someone they never thought they would.

By the time the sun rose Bran managed to fall asleep and wake up several times. And every time he believed everything was just another dream of his and that he was still at Winterfell with his father. Blinking tiredly, he thought about Theon... he must've sent his men after them already... who knows how long it will take before they give up? He helped them stay alive, but is it worth considering?

After all, he's the one who took their home away right from under their noses as soon as he got that chance... When their ride came to an abrupt stop in the middle of nowhere just getting out of a thick forest, Bran definitely woke up. Even his brother was shaken awake. It didn't seem like they were going to move again any time soon and with some killers on their tracks, they really didn't have time for unplanned breaks.

The man who was supposed to take them to White Harbor turned to them. "Alright lads, that's the end of the road for you and the beginning of it for me. Keep the road straight and once you reach the village, which should be a few hours away if I'm not mistaken, ask someone for directions or food or shelter. I really don't care. This is where I take a turn to the left and our ways officially part."

"We paid you good money to take us to White Harbor and I expect you to keep your word." Bran told him harshly, his eyebrows furrowed in anger. The man hadn't taken them to their destination, not even halfway or a quarter of the road and this was not fair!... Unless the man wanted more than what he was already given... after all he was an adult and they were just children. Children who no longer had territories or lands.

"I didn't say I can't be persuaded." Ah, there it was. Bran didn't know what more could they give. The money Theon paid weren't more than enough, but they were. still good money. "It's been a long time since I've done something entertaining, a little over three months, and my balls can't take it anymore. Boys, I can't say I've tried before, but at this point, I'll stick my blue balls in any willing hole... and right now I don't see any."

Bran felt his stomach drop as he realized what the man was asking from them. "I don't get it." Rickon titled his head to the side. "I don't see any blue balls around. And you can't stick them. They'll be useless to play with next time. Everyone knows that. How do you even color them blue?" Right... his brother wasn't as aware of fucking, cunts and breasts, and cocks and balls, still too young to know about those kinds of stuff.

"Rickon. Get off. Now!" He hissed at his little brother, willing to drag him if he had to. This matter was undiscussable. "We're not doing that. Not now. Not ever! Not me and certainly not my brother!" They weren't anybody's playing things and they will never be. Not as long as the Stark blood runs through their veins. "We'll walk the rest of the road if we have to."

Taking their stuff, they tried to distance themselves from the man who almost jumped in their faces. He had a dagger in his hands drawn out of nowhere. "And I say, be good boys and start taking clothes off. Once you reach my age you'll know how important cocks are and that you must often use them. I have been nice enough already, start undressing or start running!" But even running would be pointless.

It wouldn't be the first time a person whom he wishes to fuck tries to run away. In fact, he likes it when they run. It gives him more adrenaline when he catches them like a predator and marks his territory like a true man. "I think it's you who should run..." Where he saw fear now it's replaced by safety. They no longer look afraid, which does not sit well with him and most important of all it does not do well to his reputation.

What in the Seven Hells? Who do they think they are giving him stupid threats like that?! "Alright, then..." And that's when he hears it. A loud deep growl that doesn't hold a candle to all the bear growls he ever heard, but exceeds them by miles. He felt the hair on his arms standing as he heard another growl, this one much closer than the first. Those fucking blasted children!

Right when Bran needed Summer the most, his direwolf showed himself coming out from the woods. He was walking slowly being almost one with the shadows, so the target wouldn't even notice him. It was Shaggydog who gave himself away running out through the trees stopping right behind the man the boys considered danger. As if their enemies were the wolves' enemies as well. Bran had never been happier that he was followed.

"Maybe we can come to an agreement... if you can hear me out, then we can all get what we want." The man tried to argue the situation in his favor in vain. There was simply no way that today is not the day he dies. He sealed his fate by angering and threatening the wrong people believing himself to be the bigger and better one.

"Maybe. Maybe not." The elder Stark decided that he was not going to let him live. "Summer. Shaggydog. Whenever you please." And that was all the wolves waited to hear before they jumped at the man tearing him apart. He fought back by waving his dagger, managing only to cut some of Summer's fur before Shaggydog bit his hand and he dropped the blade onto the grass.

He managed to kick away Shaggydog with his boots, but that only angered the wild wolf harder as he jumped upfront and bit the man's neck pulling out his neck bones with his mouth ripping his jaw in the process as well. Summer ripped his hand from his wrists and used his claws to draw deep scratches blood flowing out through them. The man screamed and died in deep pain, but too fast for Bran's liking.

As repayment, he decided to wait as the wolves feasted on the dead body before continuing the journey. Now they had a horse, a wagon, lots of soft hay, a bag of money with a nice sum, a good dagger, and their loyal direwolves.

For the next days they traveled from village to village, the direwolves always hiding close by them in case trouble showed up, never staying too long in between their rides. Sometimes Bran rode and Rickon slept in the wagon with Shaggydog (they seemed to be inseparable as if they knew each other for years and have been separated for so long, reunited only recently) or Rickon lead the wagon while his brother rested.

They ate only when they reached a new village and didn't waste too much time there, bathing in inns for it was still too cold to bathe in lakes or rivers without risking to get sick. They were mere children and two children are very easy targets for the men thirsty for blood and professionally trained for battles. By the time they managed to reach White Harbor, weeks later, they had lost hope they could do it.

Where they made a deal. Bran is going to find them a ship and a way to sneak in the direwolves while Rickon will head to the market and try to buy anything he can with the little money they had left. Summer left with him and Shaggydog with Bran, the direwolves having implanted their masters' smells if anything were to happen to either of them, they would be first to know and first to act.

"I heard he wanted to give himself up as long his wife walked away free." Ah, the gossipers. Rickon thought he would've escaped them here, but no such thing apparently. They never have anything good to say about anything or anyone, the show up in random places and just talk and talk and talk. "You can call him a traitor of the Crown all you want, Eddard Stark is a man like no other."

He nearly dropped the fruits he managed to buy, most of them looked old or ugly or poisonous, when he heard his father's name mentioned and ducked around the crowd trying to get closer and hear better. "Can you imagine the shame that there is in the North right now? Their lord, his wife and their men captured by the new King and accused of treason."

"But treason for what?" That's what Rickon wanted to know too. He hid behind a table with fresh fish to hear even better. "It was not the lord's fault that his first daughter, the one who was supposed to marry the prince first shamed herself by giving her virginity to another. A peasant they said he was. And certainly not his entire fault that his second daughter ran away, but he could've put more effort into finding her."

"If you ask me." The third lady spoke. Literally, nobody asked her. "I think it doesn't matter anymore whose fault is. Our new King is never going to let them walk away alive after being humiliated publicly, not once but twice, like that. We might as well begin praying for them to embrace the Gods and suffer at least a quick and merciful death."

_'I have to find Bran.'_

* * *

 Bran found rather easily a ship willing to take them to Braavos. Not for free of course and definitely not cheap, but it the first one to leave (tomorrow morning) and it was praised to be fast and safe. Looking around it, pretending to be concerned about the said safety blabbering about his little brother who has never sailed before, he managed to find a few spots where they could hide the direwolves too.

Pleased with himself for a job well done, Bran went to a tavern. He wanted to buy a pie for his brother and himself to celebrate how far they've gotten and how they managed to stay alive for longer than they originally believed, but he never made it there. Shaggydog suddenly stopped and looked into the distance frozen in place for a short while before breaking into a wild run, Bran barely kept the pace.

At some point he lost the wolf and just followed the path where vases were broken or foods spilled onto the floor, fruits stomped on, or people terrified. No direwolf was known South the Wall. Believing that something must've happened to his brother, he forced himself to keep going even though he was tired, his legs hurt and his breathing was not regular.

He didn't find a harmed Rickon. Or a fine Rickon. Or any kind of Rickon because he wasn't even there. An empty house, abandoned more likely, that did not hide his brother... but another direwolf... one which he remembered all too well. "Hello, Nymeria." Shaggydog must've picked her smell and gotten too excited to see his sister. And when there is a direwolf involved, certainly there is a master or mistress close by.

A cold blade was pressed against the back of his neck. "Don't move."


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya helps them change their course.

Bran slowly raised his hands in the air. "I am not your enemy... quite the opposite actually." While he hadn't seen her in his dreams as much as he saw Robb and Sansa, Arya was just as awesome as he thought, wanted her to be, she would grow up to be. Her fiery nature, strong personality, and heavy determination not to be just another sewing lady would have gone to great waste otherwise...

What he saw of her was that she was the closest one to Jon. She was very good with a bow and practiced sword fighting ever since she could hold one in her hands, a wooden one at first. After that, he was left only to guess what her fate made of her knowing only that she just ran away, but never _why._ He wondered what happened to her after she left Winterfell... he was quite curious how they ended up in the same city.

"Drop your weapons. I am not going to ask a second time." All he had with him at the moment were his daggers, the one from the man the direwolves killed on the road and the one his father gave him, although even those were pretty well hidden in his clothes. And she said weapons. As if she knew there were more. Bran would say he is very impressed, but she might press that blade harder if he doesn't do her bidding.

Slowly dragging his blades out, he raised them in the air for her to see before dropping them onto the floor, the clatter short and heavy. "You have a very nice wolf there... where did you get him?" As far as she was concerned there were only five South the Wall and three of them were already belonging to someone. He was smaller than Nymeria, but not weaker. Perhaps more inexperienced.

The black-furred direwolf seemed like it was the first time he was getting out of his home.

"He is not mine, he's my brother's." Bran replied softly. Not to be an ass, but Shaggydog was much too wild and impulsive for his taste. "Mine is with him." He preferred more Summer's calm nature and warm grey furs. "I am not your enemy, Arya." The tip of the blade pressed even harder against his neck when he pronounced her real name, nearly drawing blood. "I'm Brandon Stark of Winterfell."

"And what are you doing so far from home with your brother?" If he was lying to her, then it was a bold yet stupid move which would result in death. If he was not lying to her then something really bad must've happened in the North. It might not seem like it anymore, but her alliance always laid with House Stark and only House Stark. She might have ran away, but one never forgets their roots. Their beginning. Their home.

"Our father left for King's Landing with our mother for King's Robert's funeral and Theon Greyjoy seized the castle as soon as he saw fit." Bran could say honestly that he wasn't afraid. He didn't know his sister, this is the first time they truly meet and so far she seems to be one with a professionally trained assassin, but he was certain of one thing. He knew she was not going to hurt him.

Arya pulled away her blade and tucked it back. Theon was a snake, the King was dead... it only makes sense her father would leave and he will try his luck to take the castle... apparently, it worked. They must've escaped or something. "Turn around." And as soon he did, as soon as she saw his face, the one that reminded her of her father so much, she knew he was not lying and she pulled him into a long hug.

It has been years since she had seen last a family member, but this is the first time Arya Stark meets her little brother since she left him as a babe. A girl could postpone her duty for her family. "It's alright. I'm not your enemy. I'm very happy to finally meet you, I've been told that last time we saw each other I wasn't older than a year."  Now he was thirteen.

"You said there is another brother. Where can we find him? In the meantime, you must tell me how you escaped from Winterfell. We'll what we can do afterward." There were many things she wanted to ask, the irony of fate how they met in this city when he was about to head to Braavos and she was about to leave White Harbor the next day because she couldn't figure out her mission... unless...

Jaqen H'ghar must have sent her here on purpose knowing that she will meet with her brother. That a run into her family and her past will help a girl find herself. A girl was not no one. A girl was Arya Stark of Winterfell. Years of intensive training of becoming no one only helped her realize who she is.

"Shaggydog." Bran leaned into the wolf who tilted his head at the call. "You know what to do." Immediately he jumped to his feet and ran out followed by Nymeria. They unspokenly decided to walk and wait for the wolves to meet them halfway. "Our story, I'm sure it's not as interesting as yours, we were allowed to leave."

"Why would Theon Greyjoy let Ned Stark's true born sons get away alive?" That did not make any sense, for she knew the power their name held and she knew Theon even better.

There was no other to tell her this, but dropping it directly. "Because we know about Robb and Sansa." She didn't stop walking, but her entire body went rigid for a moment before she regained her composure. "He told me if I reach either of them to tell them that he's sorry for the way things ended. I wish I could meet them too."

"Figures he'd feel remorse after Robb did nothing but treat him like a brother. Surprising is that he knows the feeling and is capable of feeling it." But this was not about him right now. "Last time I saw Robb and Sansa, they were being sent away... How did you find out? I remember mother being very keen that no one must ever know."

"She was. And she succeeded, there are the original birth records in Winterfell's archives and their copies. Maester Luwin confused the original with a copy and crossed out their names out of the copy. It's complicated. For about two years I've been having weird dreams of the past and present, I saw the place I've been dreaming about the most and that's where I found Summer and Shaggydog the direwolves."

"After that, I've begun to have dreams of Robb and Sansa, not what happened to them, but how they happened. And you. Small glimpses of you. We were heading to Braavos when Shaggydog picked up Nymeria's smell." He decided to leave the White Walker story for later. And much to his surprise, she believed him right away, even more, she had some helpful information as well.

"You're a greenseer." He didn't know what that meant. "It means your birth was a very special one, you possess the magical ability to perceive future, past, or distant present events in dreams. A greenseer sees everything and knows everything."

"How do you know all of this?" It didn't seem like common knowledge. She didn't get to respond to him, opening her mouth but freezing just a moment later. Bran only saw Rickon approaching him riding on Shaggydog's back while Summer and Nymeria came to them, Summer nuzzling him. "It's alright. That's my brother."

She turned to him, eyeing him suspiciously. "Your brother..." she repeated as if she this couldn't have been possible. Then she shook her head as Rickon jumped down. He didn't even stop to ask their sister who she is. Instead, he began to ramble everything he heard about their father stumbling over his own words.

Once he had finished, Bran felt like he was going to break down and start crying. In a matter of days, they lost everything. Their home. Their parents. The family they didn't know they had. In a word, everything. Arya nodded along the story and remained silent for a short while after Rickon had finished the story. First of all, they had to leave this city not to risk getting caught as well.

Winterfell is not an option anymore. Luckily for them, there was another place they could go to. "Come, I'll tell you more about your abilities on the road. I might even share with you how I ended up where I am now and who I am today."

"Where are we going?" Bran asked her, Rickon was too happy riding his direwolf to even stop and their sister who she is, she sounded like she already had a destination settled in her mind.

"You said you wanted to see Sansa... I'll take you to see Sansa."


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While traveling to the Eyrie, Arya shares her past with the boys. When meeting them officially, Sansa has an unexpected reaction.

"First of all, you should know that while many things are allowed in this world, falling in love with your own kind isn't... but Robb and Sansa have always been very affectionate and supportive towards each other. The years we've spent together made it impossible for me to see them being anything else, but together. Even after I learned the meaning of incest. They are not bad people, they've never been... they were just in love with the wrong person."

Riding into the sunset straight after they met with Rickon, Arya kept her word and began to tell her story to pass the time on the road. She told them to wait for her as she got rid of the wagon and the hay, which would have slowed them down rather than help them, and she came back with another horse so the three of them could ride instead. They didn't ask how she got it and she didn't tell.

"I grew up with them and Jon. Everything was fine until the day our father called us to announce King's Robert visit. It was a glorious day for the North and an opportunity for father to reunite with an old friend. It didn't go that well... not for us at least. A small piece of advice, House Baratheon may hold the crown, but it is House Lannister who rules in Westeros. From what you tell me, now they hold the crown as well."

"The day they came to Winterfell, a marriage was arranged between Joffrey, the King's eldest son, and Sansa, our father's eldest daughter. Robb argued with father for weeks after they learned that and Sansa argued with mother for even longer. But they didn't have too many good excuses. Tell them what? That they love each other and want to marry in some snowy day? That wouldn't have been too convincing."

"Instead they came with rather weak arguments, but the best in their situation, that she is a wolf of the North and she must stay in the North. When Sansa told mother she didn't care about becoming Queen, at that moment she could have told her she never loved her and the look on her face wouldn't have shown so much hurt. Jon and I backed them up as much as we could, but I was young and he a bastard. No one took us seriously."

"I used to have a very good friend, Mycah." He was not just a good friend, he was her best friend. Her eyes passed a look of sorrow for a moment, in the memory of Mycah. "We would play together all day long. He never cared that I was a lady... One day we were practicing sword fight with wooden swords when Joffrey and Sansa ran into us while taking a walk." Arya grips the reins of her horse tighter as she relives the anger.

"We were only playing, but Joffrey wanted to show off his power. Got angry because he was addressed as 'my lord' and not 'my price'. He bullied and harmed Mycah with a real sword and planned to do worse when I struck him. He tried to attack me, but I was quick to dodge when Nymeria came from nowhere and bit the hand that held the sword." The direwolf at the mention of her name walked up Arya, she scratched behind the ear. "You should have gone for the head."

Letting her head down with a low grunt, Nymeria ran to catch up with Summer and Shaggydog. "I threw his sword into the stream and ran. I knew something terrible would happen to my Nymeria, I wanted to throw stones at her and chase her away, but Jon and Robb helped me find a better hiding place. She didn't like being in a cage, but it was better than being dead."

"The same night Queen Cersei demanded to have Nymeria's head. Since she was not on duty, Cersei changed her mind and wanted to have Lady killed instead after Sansa vouched for me and blamed everything on Joffrey. Robb and Jon took her to a hiding place as well, different from Nymeria's. Sansa and I lied that she ran away... I've never seen my sister so upset before..."

"Eventually the King left, but the marriage proposal between Joffrey and Sansa remained in the fog. He wanted to have nothing to do with her after the whole situation and she wanted to never hear of him again... I remember not long after, Jon told me he had a present for me and left the castle that night... but he didn't come back. Instead, I heard a loud commotion, heavy whispers, and pacings."

"My guts told me to see what this is all about, but my mind said to stay still in my room. Obviously, I went to check it out. Mother and father learned about the incest, I learned that Sansa was locked away somewhere to leave as soon as the sun rises and Robb was chained for seriously injuring some guards. The next day, neither of them were to be seen. I tried to speak with Jon, but I wasn't allowed."

"I went to see Mycah's family... only to learn that he was butchered by the Hound, cut up in so many pieces that his body was brought back to his father in a bag. At first, the poor man had thought it was a slaughtered pig. That day they told me since Sansa can't marry Joffrey anymore... then that duty passes on to me."

Bran felt sympathy for her. He knew from experience how hard it was to make real friends in the North, his only true friend being his little brother, and to be obliged to marry the boy who had your friend murdered in such a brutal way...

"There was nothing left for me anymore. Robb was gone. Sansa was gone. Jon... I don't know what he was doing to me it seemed like he was avoiding me. Without much brain, I packed whatever I thought it would need, freed Nymeria from her cage and we ran away together. I killed the horse I took with me and stole another. To lose my tracks sometimes I would enter people's home and steal their clothes, throwing mine away."

"Nymeria hunted for us. One day she led me to meet a party of criminals to be sent to the Wall attacked by the Gold Cloaks. That's where I met Jaqen H'ghar in a prisoner wagon with a torch threatening his and the other two prisoners lives. I chose to help him escape and in exchange, he took me to Braavos, told me that he is one of the Faceless Men and that he will teach me how to become no one." It did not bring the expected result.

"The Faceless Men are a guild of assassins with a reputation for success that is unparalleled by any comparable organization. For years I've trained to become no one." She learned ways to kill she hadn't thought possible before.

"Did you make it eventually?" Rickon asked.

Arya looked into his blue eyes and told him softly. "No." But she wasn't upset about that. "My last mission in order to become no one was supposed to take place today. In White Harbor." She knew now that her mission wasn't a mission, but a choice. The Faceless Men or her family. And she chose her family. "It doesn't matter anymore. What matters is that we need to get to the Eyrie."

"Sansa has been this whole time in the Eyrie?" Bran was surprised and he wasn't at the same time. The shame Sansa brought to the crown, it would have meant killing her by sending her to the South. Obviously, they didn't want to keep her in Winterfell, leaving the middle the only option. And if Sansa went South then Robb went North.

"In a way... She isn't known anymore as Sansa Stark. The people call her Alayne Stone. Aunt Lysa and Littlefinger's bastard daughter." But then it came to her that they had no idea who he was. "Stay away from him at all costs. He's the most dangerous man in Westeros." The last thing they needed in their situation was Littlefinger meddling in.

The ride to the Eyrie seems the longest one of his life. Bran couldn't wait to meet his other sister, to finally put the puzzle pieces together and have the full portrait, to learn what life at Winterfell was before all these secrets. He imagined meeting her in person, what was more difficult to imagine was how Sansa is going to react to them. Will she believe them or laugh in their faces?

He knew from Arya that they go to the Eyrie first to meet with their aunt Lysa (either her or Littlefinger would be willing to fight for their mother) and after that, they will be off to the Riverlands and ask Lord Hoster Tully for more support. There they will see if 'family' does come first. The tricky part was to figure out which houses are still loyal to House Stark and which are not.

The North will unite with them, but they need to be sure they won't be stabbed in the back first thing after they get their father out of his chains. Now it made sense why Joffrey seized them as soon as he had the crown placed on his head, Bran realized, because he felt by humiliated by them when Sansa refused a marriage with him publicly and Arya as well, because they did nothing while he stood with his hand broken by the female beast.

Eventually, the trip came to an end within a day. They were greeted coldly only how a Tully could do it, which reminded Bran once again terribly of his mother. Aunt Lysa, well, he met her for the first time, he gave them shelter as soon as they said their names... it became clear to him that his mother was the prettier sister.

Arya was quiet the whole time they spoke, her cloak covering most of her face, standing behind them, ignored by everyone else as they shared their story. When another person hurriedly entered through the iron doors to see what the commotion is about, Aunt Lysa smiled brightly and presented Sansa to them, presented Sansa the brothers she never met and never knew of...

But as soon as her eyes landed on Rickon, she blacked out.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bran uncovers a shocking truth.

When Sansa woke up, nearly jumping out of her skin, she gasped for air as if she had none and wiped the tears in her eyes quickly. "You certainly made a lasting impression." Arya was sitting on a chair by the balcony, her cloak around her shoulders, and she was playing with one of her daggers twirling it. "I recall Rickon saying 'My mother told me all my life that I am a handsome boy. Obviously, she lied.' What a sweet thing he is."

"I didn't even know you were coming, Arya." Sansa told her on a sharp tone, angry at her sister. "You could have sent me a letter, a note, anything. When I saw him..." The shock had been too strong. And it still lingers on her, her heart beats to break her chest as she relives the moment her eyes landed on him. Her hands gripped the sheets tightly, her knuckles turning white. "He is every bit of his father's son as I am my mother's daughter..."

Arya stops twirling the knife and looks at her, pointing the sharp tip at her as well. "You have to be the one who tells him the truth. He needs to hear it from you. This has gone far too far and for far too long."

* * *

 Bran found Rickon in the library in that morning. They slept in separate rooms.

"How are you? I know this is not Winterfell, but it's better than Braavos I guess." Looking around with his eyes, he deducts something that worries him "Did you even leave this place?" Did he rest? Get some sleep? The books were not going anywhere, for Gods' sakes... yet he was happy to see him studying. It was basically a choice he made for himself on his own... Bran's little brother is not so little anymore. He is growing up.

Rickon acted like he did not say anything else after wishing him a good morning. "Did you know that a new Night King is chosen every once in one hundred thousand years? Or that the Night King controls every single White Walker and controls every animal in the army. Every mind. It says here the Night King is the strongest Walker and that he is immune to fire and dragonglass? How amazing is that?!"

"Where did you learn all that stuff from?" Bran knew for certain that not from Winterfell. "Where did you even get these books from?" Rickon was reading through some strange looking old books far more concentrated in the book than in his own brother.

"Littlefinger gave them to me. I didn't know who he was until he presented himself. I know Arya told us to stay away from him and I would've sent him away, but I didn't know. I looked at his fingers and they were not little. They looked like normal fingers to me. What was I supposed to do?" After telling him what he wanted, Baelish presented him entire books, a collection almost, on the White Walkers.

Rickon was in Heaven.

Eventually, Bran left to take a nap before they were supposed to eat together realizing that he can't deal with his brother in that state. Knowing that he was needed by no one at the moment and strangely, just a little, relieved that he was able to get some moments for himself and think about everything that's happened to him made him more stressed than relaxed. But he fell asleep quickly.

_Ever since he began to have these dreams, he hated them with passion. Ever since he left Winterfell, he became grateful to have them because they were now the only way for him to be home without actually being there risking his neck. Whether is now or one hundred years in the past, he was home. And he'll take every chance he gets to stay there even just a little more._

_Even if the scene he lands in breaks his heart as a younger Sansa sits on her bed and cries into her hands. He wants to go and comfort her, guess what this is about when there is knock on the door. Sansa kindly tells them that she wants to be left alone, politely asking them to go away as well and come back later. Robb walks in as if he heard no word. Sansa turns to him and then she turns away from him._

_He wordlessly walks over to her bed and kneels before her whispering a soft. "Look at me." He waits patiently for her to take her hands off her face and melts at the sight of her blue eyes, crazy in love on one side and sorrowed that it had to come to this. "Listen to me..." Robb continues only when he's sure that she hears him as well. "I asked Jon for help, we agreed to take them both into the woods and cage them for a while."_

_"For how long?" She cries out at him. That's good. At least they were talking. "You heard the Queen. She wants Lady's head on her plate and father is going to..." She couldn't even finish her sentence, breaking down in sobs even harder than before. Robb leans in and pulls her into her arms letting her cry against his chest, kissing her head only every now and then tell that it's not over yet._

_"Fuck her." Robb replies harshly. Sansa looks at him as if he had slapped her. "I mean it. Fuck the Queen. Fuck the King. And Joffrey. Fuck this whole damned place. Fuck everyone who isn't us!" No bloody family name or royal blood will ever be able to impress him. But the cruelty of the world? Now that is something else..._

_"Robb, I don't want her to die." He won't let it happen. Not while he is still there and still able to do something about it. Robb wipes her tears once again and begins to pepper her face with soft kisses making sure to have each inch of skin covered before he finally moved to her lips, promising that he will do everything in his power to keep Lady alive and safe._

_She doesn't respond to his kisses, but she wraps her arms around him and gets as close to him as she can. Then the scene changed again... and he found himself in the castle at the Eyrie. It was dark and cold._

_Bran wandered around the empty halls for a while. All he heard was distant wails of a woman in pain which to him acted as guidance. The closer he got, the louder the screams were getting until at some point they were beginning to mess with his head and annoy him. He wondered how is it possible for a woman to scream so long and so loud and still have the power to scream some more?_

_With his hand nearly touching the doorknob, there he hesitated for a moment. He stopped and asked himself if he is going to see something good or bad and if it is worth it... but he had gotten so far and learned so much, everything was starting to come together. What was one more shocking reveal next to the rest? Regardless of how it was going to affect him, Bran took a deep breath and walked through the door._

_Sansa was writhing in the bed, wailing, lashing, red-faced, sobbing, and heavily pregnant on the edge of giving birth surrounded by many maids. One stood between her legs to catch the baby when it comes out. One was holding her hand. One was cleaning her sweated face and forehead with a rag. It hurt him to see how much Sansa was hurting... and his respect for women and his mother especially grew immensely._

_Then he was in another scene in a beautiful meadow in a familiar place with Robb and Sansa (who looks like a baby girl, an innocent young doe, compared to the strong, tall, fierce woman he met) with their hands joined together before an unknown man..._

It was then the truth occurred to Bran, when he finally managed to put all the pieces together, when guesses became facts. Suddenly, everything made sense. The way Rickon always said he felt his own mother didn't know him. The way he always said he felt like a stranger in his own home. Why Robb and Sansa were so heavily erased from even the smallest thing that would lead to them so desperately.

With Robb's image in his mind slowly transitioning to Rickon's face holding little to no difference, it was then when Bran understood that Rickon has never been their brother. He was never his little brother or Arya's or Jon's. He was never Robb and Sansa's brother... he was _their_ son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Bam! Seen that coming?


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bran stays in the past while in the present, Littlefinger joins the story.

_This is the longest time he had been in a past scene and a sense of dread filled his chest questioning himself what was going to happen if he stayed too long. He didn't want to know, scared the answer might the one he considers right now... that he is never going to wake up again remaining stuck in past events until his heart stops, being unable to change the events, unable to do anything else but watch._

_Under his eyes, Sansa was screaming in pain, scared and alone with no one she knew to comfort her. For some reason, Rickon was taking his sweet time to come out and it was killing her. Both, figuratively and literally. Bran wanted to help, but he had no idea how. He had never seen women giving birth, only recently he learned why people like to get naked together! This was too much!_

_When Sansa lets out the loudest scream he heard ever since entering this scene, he closes his eyes silently praying for this to end soon and his chest tightens feeling her pain. Opening them again after a mortifying silence takes over, he breathes relieved to see it was over. It lasts only for a second before he realizes the baby hadn't cried and his heart beats increase once again. He forced himself to remember that it was alright, that Rickon was alive._

_Alive and breathing and **fine.**_

_After what feels like the longest waiting of their lives, both young Sansa and Bran breathe out as the babe's cries take over. The maid who caught him starts cleaning him, the maids by her side do the best to comfort her telling that it was finally over, praising her for how well she did and what a beautiful boy she has. Drained, as if she died and came back to life, Sansa uses her last forces to hold out her arms._

_Shaking white fingers stay in the air, teared up blue eyes locked on the newborn, her chest heaves and new tears fall down her reddened cheeks. "Please..." she begs when the maid holding the baby doesn't bother to turn to her. "Let me hold him..." Her words barely above a whisper. "Just once. Only once. I beg you." The maid gives her an apologetic look and almost runs out of the room, leaving the new mother in a terrible state._

_She slumps down the bed, her red long hair sprawled and passes out crying. Bran follows the maid who leaves the tower they were in, meeting with someone waiting outside. "It is done." She says. "It's a boy. Gave us quite a scare for a moment, but he's a healthy fighter. Is it just you?"_

_Bran recognizes Jory Cassel instantly and doesn't know whether to be happy that it is him or not. "Lord Eddard doesn't want anyone to know I've ever been here, do you understand me?" She nods giving him her promise to stay silent. "He would've come himself, but he didn't want to risk being recognized. I'll take him to the North and see him grow up strong and healthy, well taken care of... how is the mother?"_

_"She's passed out, my lord. This was no easy birth. I am surprised it claimed no lives, yet I've been told that you northerners are very stubborn." She tells him giving him the baby to hold._

_"It is a quality and a flaw at the same time, give the mother my best, my sincere apologies and tell her that her son will never know the hardships of life and that I will look after him for as long as the Gods allow me to breathe... My lady will probably be furious with me about this, but I believe the mother deserves that much."_

* * *

 Unaware of anything that's truly happening around him, alone because Bran wouldn't wake up, Arya was nowhere to be found and his sister needed medical attention, Rickon played in the snow building a castle away from his worries. As far as he's concerned, they did not have a home, but at least they had a roof over their heads which was better than nothing.

Shaggydog ran off with his siblings somewhere to play, overjoyed to be reunited again. He wanted to have that too, but he had a feeling if he jumped on Arya the way Shaggydog jumped on Nymeria, he would have probably found himself with his throat slashed or with a dagger in his heart. She wasn't the kind of person you'd want to sneak up on and he pitied the men before him who tried to do that.

"Your brother is still asleep, I presume." Rickon turns his head to see the Lord of Eyrie standing behind him with his hands joined and a smile on his face. At his age, the young Stark boy knew the difference between fake smiles and honest smiles. The Lord's smile was not an honest one.

"Yes. I tried to make friends with my cousin Robin, but he's too weird even for me who I am comfortable with most things." It was not alright for an almost man (because that's what they are) to still suck on his mother's breasts. He stopped doing that about eleven years ago. He is twelve now. What was Robin going to do when the battle will call for him? Hide behind his mother's skirt?

"I know Robin is not exactly everyone's dream child, but he has his qualities. I assure you of that." For example, the Eyrie. Robin's one and greatest quality. "What are you building, little one? Ah, you have a strong eye for architectural details. That is wonderful. Not many do. Certainly not many of your age."

"You can help me finish it, it will be a fun game." Rickon beamed at him, happy to have someone human to join him. He loved Shaggydog to death, but his brother taught him to make human friends too. "But I'll give it a name. You can come up with the area it will be settled in and its motto and I will invent a House name." He's not about to leave the best parts to a stranger.

Petyr refused him gently. He would only get down and dirty with a girl beneath him, not for some snow and pleasant architecture. What is made of snow does not become real. "I know your mother... I was supposed to marry her. Forgive my bold question, but why is it that she never mentioned you to her sister?" With children, he learned the best way to get anything out of them is to address the question directly.

They usually have a hard time catching up on subtle hints and when you ask, they might give you more than what you wanted. Knowledge is power.

Rickon rolled his eyes. He couldn't say he was surprised about that. "We've never been too close. Or close actually. That if you don't add the times we sat together at the high table. I was always happier to sit with Bran anyway, he gets me more than she ever did. Sometimes with the way she treated me over the years, I asked myself who is the real bastard me or Jon?"

The smile that began to cover Petyr's face could make you believe it was his name day and received the greatest gift in history. Rickon was too busy with his castle to notice how much he managed to please the Lord of the Eyrie in just a few moments.

That smile lived for a short while as one deep growl coming from behind made his skin crawl. Both turned their heads to see a grey female direwolf with shining yellow eyes baring her teeth, slowly approaching them growing angrier with each step she took towards them. Littlefinger froze as the wolf's eyes met his, the fur of her chin a few inches above Rickon. She made a sudden bite in the air making the Lord flinch.

Despite the fact that the was afraid on the inside, on the outside he smirked. "I think that's my cue to leave." It was no secret that Lady never liked him. 

* * *

  _"What have you done?" Bran was now back in Winterfell in his father's chambers. His father was cradling a baby, his mother fuming by the fireplace. Bran had a hard time figuring out which one of them was burning harder. "Why did you have him brought here? One bastard wasn't enough for you, you felt the need to bring one more into our home?"_

_Ned gives her just one stern look and she silences herself, more spats just on the tip of her tongue. "Cat... close your eyes." She sighs annoyed instead, not in the mood to play stupid games at the moment. "Close your eyes and forget everything you ever knew. Forget your childhood. Your name. Your past. Your family and the one you married into. Forget Brandon and Lyanna, forget me and our and children..."_

_His father gets up from the bed and quietly walks up to her. "Now, open them and tell me what you see." Her eyes fall on the newborn, who was sleeping peacefully._

_"A baby." She tells him._

_"Exactly. A baby. A baby who is not at fault for our mistakes, a baby who did not ask to be born or conceived in the first place. I know what this means to you and I apologize for not having the necessary words or the right actions to make you feel better, but let us not spill the blood of an innocent child who got dragged in our mess against his will." Catelyn wordless walks out of the room and the scene changes again._

_Bran finds himself in the baby's room sees his mother walking inside past the assigned guard. She looks down at the child, her hands gripping the wooden crib. He can read easily the battle his mother fights on the inside, beyond disgusted angered and disturbed knowing very well his origins yet there is pity in her eyes and a little bit of softness for he reminded her of Robb as if he had been born again._

_With ghost steps, she goes to the bed guided by some strange force and grabs a pillow. She approaches back the crib holding the pillow to her chest and Bran's heart drops to his stomach guessing what he was about to witness._


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bran meets the Three-Eyed Raven. A mother and her son spend some time together.

_A knife flies past her, startling her and making her stumble backward, breaks the window and continues the flight outside. Judging by the sudden screams, it either landed on someone killing them or merely injured them. The pillow fell from her hands at her side as she struggled to get her balance back. Eventually, Cat made the courage to look at the intruder's face, letting out a breath she did not know she held._

_It wasn't her husband._

_"Forgive me, my lady, but these are mad times we are living in." With Robert furious at Ned for shaming him not once, but the twice. It's safe to say they are currently on thin ice, on the brick of the war. "How are you faring?" Theon takes a few steps, displaying amazing acting skills for pretending nothing happened in the last minute, until his eyes rest on the newborn. "I came to see him too... Seven Gods."_

_From the moment it was announced in the morning that the Lord and Lady of Winterfell welcomed another son into the world, he knew that child wasn't theirs. And from her history with Jon which still goes on, it was obvious a murder would be attempted tonight. "That's the spitting image of Robb right here..." He folds his arms behind his back and looks at her, his expression unreadable._

_"I suppose congratulations on your new son are in order, my lady." The son that will never know his true parentage. The son would have not made it through this night... To take him out of Winterfell is impossible, Theon realizes, the next best thing he can do is to assure the boy stays alive long enough till he fucks a girl at least. After that, it's every man for himself._

_"I suppose my gratitude is in order as well, my lord." Catelyn replies with a dignified nod, straightening her skirts. "It makes me happy to know Bran will have a... playmate."_

_They were playing a nice game of how to ignore the elephant in the room, but Theon is known well for growing bored quickly. "My lady, one more time if you try anything like this or if you try paying anyone to do something like this, I'll have you sent to the Wall or exiled in the South." He didn't want to think about what would've happened if he came too late._

_Something in him stirs when he considers the possibilities. He knows better than to mess with the Lady of Winterfell, whom the Lord loves and adores which is a rarity in Westeros, and he isn't a big fan of children... but that was Robb's son in there. Robb's very first (most likely last) child. Theon couldn't stand aside on this even if he wanted to. He needed to make sure the message was received._

_"Robb is at the Wall, if he doesn't kill you first then the environment there certainly will. In the South, there is King Robert and Queen Cersei members of two powerful houses, whom you have shamed deeply, which are not known exactly for their forgiving nature... Between the two of us who do you think Lord Stark would believe faster?"_

_"You?" He eyes her up and down. "Who can barely stand Jon the bastard? For whom you never tried too hard to show him love or affection... Or me?" And pauses to fix his eyes on her, his glare impossible to look away from. "The one who led him to discover what was truly happening under his roof when no one was looking in the right way_?"

As he blinked, the scene changed again. Bran at first thought he was in the Godswood, but quickly realized he was just homesick when he got confused by a simple weirwood tree. He asked himself where he was now? Past? Present? It's hard to keep tracks if he's awake even when he's asleep. The weirwood tree is beautiful. And with the sun setting behind, it looks like the very first weirwood tree in the world.  

It is giant and also heavily decorated with ravens, multiple ravens sit on every branch. The branches are very long and without doubt, many more than the trees in the Godswood have. Surrounded by many rocks it takes him a little longer to figure out there is a pattern and that not a single raven is normal. No raven in this world has three eyes. As soon he finished the thought, the ravens flew all at once.

Bran wasn't sure if he was thinking out loud or if nature was hearing his thoughts and acting upon them as they went, for the timing with the flying ravens was perfect. Yet this place looks so... abandoned. As if the last person who set foot here lived hundreds of years ago. He dodged the ravens as best as he could, they were so many, and he could swear that their number multiplied since he got here.

He turns and covers his eyes with his arms, counting to busy his mind and tries to relax waiting them out until he hears the very last cry in the distance. Only then he dares to look and takes a step back in fear... he was not anymore in the South. Or the North. Neither Westeros. Nor Essos. He was _beyond_ the Wall... it was standing tall and proud, the young Lord's mind hardly believing what his eyes were seeing.

Old Nan used to tell him stories about the Wall. 700 feet tall. 300 miles long. Created to protect the world from the White Walkers and the wildlings living beyond... it doesn't compare with what he imagined and the stories don't do it justice... but the cave's call beneath the tree is louder than the Wall's. Knowing what he has to do, but not the effects his actions will have, he enters the cave and prepares for the worst. 

The ravens lead him to the right path. There are so many roots, he could be immortal and still die before he finishes counting. Getting lost here, forever, for good would be so easy. Just one step in the wrong direction. Yet he has no doubt that he is being led well. Eventually, the ravens become raven, just one, and sits on a branch close to a man who appears to be fused with them... ' _Taking being the tree's heart meaning a little too far.'_ Bran thought to himself.

A very, very old man. A man whose body is fused with the roots of the weirwood tree. Bran didn't know if he was impressed or simply feeling pity for the man. "The hour is late." The man tells him. "You successfully completed my missions, although slower than I hoped. The hour is late, _he_ is on the move, and we have much to do, Brandon Stark."

That was the men behind his dreams. That was the man with the weirdly shaped raven he couldn't stop seeing around. That was the man who gave him his abilities to travel in between realities and witness moments no one outside the ones participating in them will. "...You are the Three-Eyed Raven."

* * *

Rickon watches Littlefinger retreat and scratches the direwolf under her chin. He feels she's very tensed and calms just a tad when the Lord of the Eyrie is out of their sight. The scratching usually calms Shaggydog. "What's the matter with you?" He asked her softly. "He wasn't plotting to murder me. If he was, he wouldn't be doing it out in the open where anyone could hear him... or in my presence."

"It's not your fault, don't fret too hard." A soft melodic voice greets him. He sees his supposed sister, who pretends to be a bastard, moves a little to the side and stands to his feet as she walks up to them. The wolf bows her head and Sansa pets her gently. "She's never liked him or this place... Actually, if I think about it, she doesn't like anyone outside the family." Sansa couldn't blame her for that. They would take the North over the South any day.

"I know a way to make her happy. We should go where all the sheep are kept and let her have some fun." That way they could have some laughs as well, get some nice fresh meat for supper and wool for future clothes to be worn. Everybody wins on every domain! "I'm glad you're awake and I'm sorry. It's like we snuck up on you when you probably weren't even aware that Bran or I existed." He wouldn't have believed them if he would've been in her position.

Sansa smiles and shakes her head with a hand wave. "It's alright. I'm glad you're here with me, now. And safe." Most importantly, alive. Alive. Not damaged. Innocent as the day she brought him into this world from what she sees so far. "I apologize for the way our first conversation went... I just never thought it will happen outside my dreams." While not ready to tell him the full truth, she settles for small truths at the moment.

Lies only brought her up where she is now.

"It's fine." Rickon's just happy to meet another family member. For a long while as the Stark siblings it has been only his brother and himself... he had always wanted to be part of a big family. "It's going to be a while before Bran wakes up, I suppose. Do you want to help me finish this castle?" He started it and now he has to finish it. But some help would be nice too.

Sansa pretends to consider his offer, folding her arms behind her back, when she would even join him in a sparing act as his opponent if it meant she would be able to spend time with him. She will have him in any way she can. "On one condition... you have to tell me everything about your life at Winterfell and you are not allowed to spare me the details."

"I'm warning you. I like to talk, it keeps me concentrated and distracted at the same time." When he talks he's usually narrating something from the past which keeps him distracted from all the horrible things happening in his life and concentrated at the same time on remembering the past and not forgetting it. Forgetting is the worst thing that can happen or you can do.

As a person, when you are forgotten that is when you are truly dead... And the castle has to be redone basically from zero because a more powerful breeze hit the weaker walls still to be perfected and the better half of it fell apart. It wasn't even coming out nicely anyway.

"I really don't mind that." Sansa tells him, looking at him as if she's astonished by his existence. "I have all the time in the world for you."


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bran is faced with a difficult choice. Rickon has an intersting question to ask.

"Why me?" The worst question to ask, yet the right one. The perfect one to start with. "There are millions of people in this world. Why me from all of them? I'm a teenage boy who was supposed to rule in his father's place." His father was going to train him for a few years and then step down and let him become the Lord of Winterfell. He was a simple boy from the North born into a special family. Nothing more, nothing less.

"You and the Night King share many similarities." The Three-Eyed Raven tells him, sending chills down his spine which weren't comimg from the winds outside or the cold. Bran pauses to contemplate and comes up with nothing he might share with the Night King. He knew from his... from Rickon, who he is and what he can do. Why would he have anything in common with a dead man who only lives to murder?

"How exactly?" Bran asks. "Rickon told me how the Night King switches places with another one every once in one hundred thousand years. I know from him that they have been kept beyond the Wall bound to wander lost in eternity. Why would he be on the move now? What changed?" But what didn't change? Over a month ago he had the life many dream to have and few get to. The luckier ones had it even better.

"I believe you answered that question yourself. You are already beginning to learn." Bran was confused once again. Beginning to learn what? He only put together some pieces handed to him. Anyone could've done that. "But we still have a long way to go. The Wall is the only thing keeping the Night King away from the living, we need to ensure it stays that way." By the tone of the man's voice, he judges it's possible to fail.

"How are we going to do that?" If the Wall falls, the living are dead. The brother... nephew? He hardly kept the pace. Honestly, he hardly cared. He loved Rickon as his own brother and will never be able to look at him and call him his nephew. If there is a slight chance for the White Walkers to pass the Wall, then he'll do anything in his power to stop it. Even die for it if that's what it takes.

"You are not betraying him." The Three-Eyed Raven's words don't help. But, he had nobody to talk to for hundreds of years...

"It certainly feels like it." Protecting the Wall against the White Walkers. Defeating the Night King. Bran's chest twists in pain as he realizes he is indeed stealing Rickon's dream from him. It feels like he unknowingly committed treason against the one person in Westeros he wished not to.

"One of the other reasons why it must be you is because of your connection to your little nephew." It felt so wrong to think of him as that when they have been through so much together. "You love him. You protected him and I can see in your heart that you will continue to do that regardless of your blood connection... and I need you to keep doing that. He is after all the key."

"The key?" But his penny drops instantly, his stomach following just as quickly. "His abilities against the White Walkers." He understood now. Rickon is the only key, the only way the White Walkers will ever be able to travel South the Wall... His heart begins to pound as he weights two equal in impact options. Keep him away from everything that is tied to the Army of the Dead until his own death...

Or kill him now and be done with it.

* * *

 "What's on your mind?" Sitting under a tree, watching the snow fall at every slight branch shake whenever the wind blew a little harder, Sansa noticed a thoughtful expression on his face and wanted to get rid of it as soon as she saw it. Her child should not know the hardships of life at his age. He should laugh and play all day long from sunrise until moonrise. The war is not lost if he doesn't train for it one day.

"I'm trying to figure out something." He tells her pointing at Lady nuzzling her nose against an annoyed Shaggydog's head with Nymeria close by tearing apart a crow that did not get fly off with the rest and Summer staying in the background, silently judging them all. "Bran told me Robb and Jon found five pups, before either of us were born, in the woods and that symbolically we had to have them."

Sansa looks down at their entwined arms apologetically. "I'm afraid I can't give you more details about that day. I was there, but not with them." The memories of that day flood her mind and then she looks at Lady meaningfully. It was the same day they met and became inseparable. Her coming to Sansa meant even more because she was given to her by someone she loved.

"No, it's just that..." Rickon paused, trying to figure out how to put his thoughts in words. "There were five pups for four Starks." Because back then it was only Jon and Robb with Sansa and Arya. "When we thought it was just the four of us, there were five pups for four Starks." But then Robb and Sansa rejoined. "Then there were six Starks with and six direwolves... where did the sixth come from?"

* * *

 "If the Night King marks him... we will all be doomed to an endless night. I find your feelings interesting. I have been the Three-Eyed for over a thousand years, I know everything and I see more than I know. Love is something impassive to me. I do not feel gratitude if an evil person dies as I do not feel sorrow if I a good person dies because no one is ever truly good or bad. Everyone at some point is a little bit of both."

The Three-Eyed Raven takes in his silence and studies him. "You know your options. Yet how you still want to protect your nephew..." Bran closes his eyes and exhales. There was no point in denying the truth against the man who knows more about him than he ever will. "You are ready to dive into the unknown to ensure his safety... it moves me." If that was a joke, it was a terrible one. Yet again, centuries of ravens being your best friends aren't ideal...

"I was there with him when he rode his first pony." Bran's voice is not higher than a whisper, soothing and nostalgic. "When he held his first bow and fired his first arrow. I was there when he first approached me about his secret passion no one else seemed to share... every time he felt alone he came to me. He played with me and shared my interests although he finds them deathly boring because no one else would."

He looks at the Three-Eyed Raven sternly, his eyes burning with unknown fire for what he's about the say will say once, only once and then never again. "I will kill for him, but I will never kill him. As long as he stays away from the Wall, everything will be alright. And that is that." He will faster put a blade in Rickon's hand than his chest.

"Tell that to the Night King when you see him." The old man replies after a long silence. "And say it to him with the same fire as you did to me now. I'm sure he'll be very willing to negotiate afterward." Apparently, he was capable of mocking and quite good at that too.

"He's after you isn't he?" It's all coming together now. "He can't get to Rickon, therefore you are his second option... What did you do to piss off this one so badly?" If the matter is so urgent, then it means they haven't tried to break the borders until now.

The answer is simple. "Nothing. This one follows what the one before him did, who follows what the one before him did. It's not about a substantial action of mine or his that changed everything. Do you know why there have been multiple Night Kings instead of one? Because nothing lasts. Even the very ground you rest your feet on will perish someday."

"You won't last either then... That's my mission, isn't it? To become you in order to become the new target for the Army of the Dead, the cave is magically protected against them and you're on the verge of dying. I want to protect my brother and you will give me that... you will make me you."

"Come and find me, Brandon Stark... The hour is late."

* * *

His eyes open and he rises from the bed forgetting for a moment where he was and how he ended up there. Throwing the covers off his body he goes straight to Sansa's room, knocks on the door and feels relief when he sees her and Arya as well beyond the door. "I believe we need to talk."


	15. Chapter 15

"Can't say I haven't been expecting that after Arya told me about your dreams... how do they work?" How strange it seemed to her that her brother is able to see things he hadn't lived, although it also raised a great danger as well. If the wrong people find out, they will try to kill Bran being scared of him or capture him and use him for battles and he'll never be free again.

"I just close my eyes, really. The process is not painful, but what I'm learning is." There was no denying in that, lately, Bran noticed about himself that he is not capable of telling things in any other way other than how they are. Must be one of the Three-Eyed Raven side effects. "Every time I think I completed a chapter, there is a new one." And a new one and a new one and so on... An endless book.

"How are you dealing with that?" Arya asked him tilting her head to the side. He was young, unlike them, and just learning about how it really goes down in life... The little brother she abandoned at the tender age of one is now going through a terrible journey. She wished she could help somehow, but as help cannot be given then she hopes he is not hurting at least.

Finding out after being kicked out of the home you've known forever that you have four siblings instead of two and the boy you thought as your little brother is actually your incest born nephew from two of your siblings while your parents are captive in the hands of the enemy... no matter how you put it, it is not an easy matter to deal with.

"I don't. I simply don't have the time." Arya and Sansa shared a confused look making Bran explain himself. It was difficult enough to explain to himself the entire Three-Eyed Raven, to other people it's nearly impossible. "Every time I uncover a secret, something happens with my life at stake and an even bigger secret than the one before. It's a vicious cycle, but since I don't have time for reactions, I just move on."

"How much do you see? What do you see? The past or the present?" Sansa had so many questions, she hardly decided which ones to choose, luckily for her Arya had more voice at that moment than she did.

"I see for as long as I'm asleep. As of today, that is changed. The Three-Eyed Raven as a parting gift after our talk told me I'm capable of having past visions while awake... I need more training." He needed to be worthy when the title is passed down to him. He needed to be strong and brave if he wants to keep Rickon safe from the Night King.

"How can we help?" He appreciated how the sisters he never knew were so quick to jump to his aid. After learning about them, he believed they would hardly show any interest given that they truly, and painfully, are just strangers whose roads happened to stumble upon each other.

"I need more stories from the past. Any story. I need to cross my borders to move on to the next task." He will tell them about that when the time is right. When he figures out how to gently let a mother know her child almost became a White Walker because he turned his look away for a moment without getting his head bit off by her direwolf.

Arya glances at Sansa, telling her she shared her story with the boys on their way to the Eyrie. "I can tell you how I ended up where I am today..." Sansa continues with an unsure shrug. It all seemed so surreal. As a grown woman she had seen a lot, learned a lot and done things she was not proud of. A brother whom she never knew before claiming he has the ability to travel through time was scary, but intriguing as well.

Bran's eyes roll in the back of his head. He loses his balance and falls on the floor. His sisters are quick to help him into a chair. "It's alright." He reassured them. "I'm in between time scenes. You tell the story and I will be there acting as the third eye." He must've looked strange to worry them like that.

"Well. I was born in Winterfell, second daughter of the Lord and Lady. Robb used to tell me how precious I truly was to them whenever my thoughts got the worst of me." Bran could see them, the bells that rang from sunrise until sunset when she was born. "Because he was made out of duty, but I was the first one made out of love."

"I grew up with two brothers and Theon. Arya was still too small to play with, I didn't know any games for her, and even when I tried to approach her just to braid her hair she'd kick me until I left her alone." Present Arya smirks to herself. Her sister ignores her. "I always had a special relationship with Robb. Initially, because Jon was a bastard and Theon who was father's ward, it was only Robb whom I wanted to spend my time with."

"Whenever I wanted something, anything, if it were in his powers, he would give it to me." Bran sees a very young Robb who gives his sister something. She smiles brightly and hugs him tight. He smiles in return because he was able to make her happy. "No matter how many times I'd ask him to play girly games with me, he'd say yes and bring along an annoyed Theon and an insecure Jon. The more the merrier."

"We were always close. He was always the first after mother whom I'd tell about my daily accomplishments because seeing that proud look on his face gave me life. When he was with me, time was lost... One day, after I learned how to read, mother gave me this book after I managed to create my first embroidery on my own without any kind of help."

"It was a love story about a princess and her knight saving her from being married to the man who killed her father by faking her death as if he was the one to kill her and together they ran away. I remember reading through the pages, noticing after I finished it how much I found myself in it and how much the knight reminded me of Robb, giving up his dream to serve because he believed in their love so much."

"I went to tell him, but he was nowhere to be found. I was so excited, I remember Jon being the first I ran into and bugging his ears off..." She should've known he wouldn't be into that kind of things. He was more of a warrior than a lover. "After that day, I began to like Jon a little more because he acted as if he was into my story when it was probably torture for him."

"I learned that Robb began his sword training which made me spend more time with Jon." Being a little girl back then it was so easy to forget about her relationship with her blood brother when she was barely seeing him anymore and grow to love her half brother who was mistreated for who he was. It wasn't the same intensity she felt when she was with Robb, but Jon was great just the way he was.

"Jon and I got closer while Robb and I got further apart..." A nostalgic smile lights upon her face as Bran sees Jon bringing them together again by lying to both of them that they were going to do something else. He told Sansa her favorite flowers bloomed earlier and Robb that he found an amazing sparing place where they could practice together.

"It didn't work out as great as he had hoped." Jon got yelled from both sides, Robb and Sansa had their first argument ever and that night ended with chambers' doors slammed doors and three angry people. "The following fortnight, there was a feast organized at Winterfell for something I don't remember and I never bothered to. I was angry I had to participate because I knew the chances to see either of them were very high."

That feast did not go so great either. Bran goes through the mass of people, nearly cries when he sees his father and mother sitting together wrapped around each in content silence despite the loud music playing and the even louder laughter of the people. Everyone was so happy then. He sees Robb speaking with some blonde girl he had never seen before and he seems pretty taken with her.

Then he sees the look of anger on Sansa's face and realizes that not everyone was happy in that night.


	16. Chapter 16

"I understand you sometimes as much as much I understand embroidery." Which was not at all. "What's the matter with you? Tonight you have been anything but your usual self." Robb was getting better at noticing important details as Ser Rodrick told him while practicing sword fighting and tonight that was proven to him. Sansa barely ate and barely chatted with the other lords and ladies around her.

She was known to be the most active one on that matter, enjoying the political discussions and love stories far harder than anyone her age should. Not too long after the feast began, but not shortly either, she retired to her chambers. Robb went to his mother playing the worried elder brother and asked about his sister. He was granted permission to leave and see if he can make a difference in her strange behavior.

Sansa lets him in her chambers but hardly wants him there at the moment. "I'm surprised you had the time to notice someone from the crowd was not reaching your happiness expectancy." She pauses to add bitterly afterward. "After all, everyone noticed how taken you were with Lady Jane." Including father and mother who had discussed with the lord a possible marriage in the future. 

Much to her anger, Robb laughs and looks away not believing that this was the cause of her disturbance. "Don't tell me your entire night was ruined simply because you saw me talking to a girl." When she did not deny, he wanted to laugh even harder. His amused look faltered in exchange for a serious one. "Do you realize how unfair you are?" Because believed she didn't.

Sansa raises an eyebrow at him. "Am I?" And shoves in his arms a doll he had gifted her on her name day a year or two ago. She stopped playing with them after she turned eight and he should have known that.

"Sansa." Robb's warning tone, that low growl, human but a little wolfish as well, was demanding her to stop acting like a spoiled child who had seen her favorite toy in the hands of another. 

She sharply turns to him. "How did she catch your interest so fast?" Despite the tears in her eyes threatening to fall, she held her head high. "Is that she is more talented than I am at combat?" Sansa knew very well that Lady Jane liked practicing with the sword as much as she liked embroidering. "Smarter?" A woman who can wield a sword is a lot of things, but not stupid. "Prettier?"

He turns away from her before he might do or say something that will hurt her. Setting aside the doll, he looks at Lady, gives her one dashing smile and lowers to the floor with his arms open. "Hey, girl. Come here for a moment." Lady ran to him without hesitation. He turns to her, his point proven. "You saw that? She trusts me. Why don't you?"

It hurt him to know her wolf trust him more than she does, yet again, wolves won't contain their feelings or hide them. People can and do. Taking a step closer, his eyes find her. "I gave her to _you,_ I could have given her to anyone else. But I chose _you._ I will _always_ choose you."

"I got scared." Sansa admits with tears in her eyes, wrapping her arms around herself. "You're everything every lady dreams to have one day. We've fallen apart and when that girl came in our story I thought I would lose even more than I already had." To her, he was the embodiment of perfection. She knew she was pretty, but she also knew she would never rise to his level.

Robb sighs and brings her forehead to rest against his, the small wolf tucked between them. His thumb cups her cheek wiping away the falling tears. She buries herself into him as much as she can, his lips pressing against her red hair. When they finally manage to pull away enough to look at each other, guided by their true feelings for each other, they shared their first kiss and they knew. They knew everything will be alright.

Their kiss was awkward, a bit sloppy and badly angled, Sansa having no experience and Robb too little to count, yet for both of them it was perfect just the way it was and the one moment they will remember until the day they die. Separating just enough for Robb to let Lady down, Sansa throws her arms around his neck and kisses him again. He pulls her closer, nearly gluing her to his body.

There is a knock on the door and Jon enters the room. "I was told you might be here, did you and Sansa finally make up?" His eyes widen at the sight of his siblings, well not only did they make up, but they're making out as well... and they don't even care that he's interrupting. Jon blushes hard and backs away, hitting at first the wall, then the door, before finally catching the handle. "I'll... come back later." They pay him no attention.

The door opens again not too long after Jon and Arya sees them. "Have either of you seen Jon?" They don't have enough time to pull away completely, but she doesn't seem bothered. "Kissing looks grosser in real life." She states out loud. It seemed to her gross enough in the stories but seeing people actually doing it. Why do they even like that?

"One day you will be doing that too." Robb teases her grinning.

Arya shakes her head. "Never." And takes her leave. Hardly caring anymore about finding Jon.

"We really need to be more careful." Sansa nods and pulls him into another kiss.

"The next months were the happiest of our lives." Present Sansa continues. "Jon and Arya had sworn to us they would not tell a living soul and even helped us get together some times without anyone noticing. It was perfect. Everything was perfect. I should have known it won't last long..." she sighs and pours herself some wine. Bran sees what she means when he sees them learning about King Robert's arrival.

"The night mother told you Joffrey will be your future husband." Arya completes, accepting the wine offered by her sister. She downs it in one try. "That's the same night Jon stopped talking to me." Arya knew as a bastard that Jon wasn't very well seen by the others outside her family. She knew he was told not to keep in touch with his siblings in order not to upset the King when he arrives. She thought it was bullshit and she still does.

"I remember yelling at mother." Sansa's eyes were lost in the memory. She was in the present only with her body and in the past with her whole soul. "I remember telling her I don't want the crown if I have to share it with someone so vile." That night happened not too long before the one with Nymeria. "From what I've heard Robb tried to reason with father as well."

Bran sees his father arguing with his eldest son and remembers that's exactly what Arya told him back when they were traveling.

"She came out of your room looking so pale." Arya snorted to herself, the image still vivid in her mind. "I thought at first you told her the truth, then I thought you told her you don't want to be a lady anymore... it would've been just as hilarious." The self dreaming princess to be who refused to marry a true prince. "It went on for many days... at some point, we thought we'd actually succeed and make them change their minds."

"Then the incident with Nymeria happened..." Sansa took another sip of her wine after refilling the cup. Bran sees her in her room crying with her face buried in her hands believing wholeheartedly she was about to lose her dear wolf to the lions. Robb bursts in, she jumps up to yell at whoever would disrespect her like that, when she sees him she cries even harder as he gathers her in his comforting arms.

"They can't." She sobbed against his chest. "Not her. She's good. She didn't do anything, Robb please don't let them." Sansa didn't need her lover. She needed her big brother to fix her problems as he had always done when she needed him to.

He takes her face in his hands. "Jon and I found, Nymeria. We can build her a cage and find a spot in the woods to hide her. We can take her to the Forbidden Forest and no one will ever know and we can do the same for Lady, we can say she ran away too. What would they dare to do to us?" And he hugs her to his chest, whispering softly. "It will be alright, Sansa. I'll fix this."

"And I believed him when he said that." Present Sansa continues. Stupid young girl really believed everything will be alright. "That was the first night we shared a bed. He was so concerned about me, he refused to leave until he was certain I was alright. We locked the door and went to bed together."

Arya turned to Bran. "And that my child is how they had our nephew." She told him on a humorous tone.

"Not, not that night." The elder sister giggled with a slight shake of her head. Bran blushed hard. "That night we didn't do anything but sleep... I was far too distraught with Lady and crying too hard to make it nice." They didn't wait too long either after the first night they shared a bed together. "Actually we had our first time after we saved Lady and Nymeria."

"Such a romantic night you must've had."

The young man wondered how can two grown women possibly have a conversation with another person as if the third is not even there. He only hoped he won't get to see his brother and sister together in that way because Sansa would be the first girl he sees naked and Robb the first man. He wished to see a naked man/woman if they are his lover rather than his sibling.

Sansa remembers even now how she nearly jumped his bones the first chance she got when she was certain they are the only people in the area. Sleeping in the same bed with Robb in those nights was absolutely amazing and he was the sweetest man to deny his morning wood some relief not to upset her more, but she certainly felt it.

And her curiosity eventually got the best of her.


	17. Chapter 17

With the King's journey to Winterfell near to an end, the two lovers ought to enjoy whatever small amount of time together they have left before they would be separated and forced to spend their time with other people they knew they won't like. 

Sansa giggled throwing a look over her shoulder as she held up her dress and ran with Lady by her side, nearly screaming with laughter when Robb appeared out of nowhere and almost caught her failing to grab her as she ducked and ran ever faster. The Forbidden Forest was officially her most favorite place in the world and nothing will ever be able to beat it. It was the only place where Robb and she could be openly together.

Dodging branches over branches, Sansa laughed and ran and laughed some more, Lady following her closely. When Greywind took a leap and landed on her wolf, Sansa knew she was doomed to the same fate. Which happened immediately after, in the moment she hesitated and stopped to watch the wolves play. Robb sneaked up on her from behind and wrapped his arms around her waist, spinning her around. "Gotcha."

"That's not fair." She said turning into his embrace, her hands circling his neck. Giving him a playful scolding look as their mother does to them sometimes. She practiced it. "I am a lady, it is polite to let the ladies win. Where are your manners, my lord?"

Robb looked away, pretending he was thinking about it, then shrugged nonchalantly. "I must've left them at home."

Sansa leaned in towards him and Robb dipped his head as well, if his guess was good then he liked where this was going, but instead of a sweet kiss of victory, he was met with a light shove. Her hands went to his chest and pushed him away as she turned again, picked up her dress, and disappeared into the woods. Robb's head dropped and he sighed dramatically.

"This is the second time she's done this to me today and I fell for it again." Greywind let out a soft bark. "I know." The wolf tilted his head. Robb was unimpressed. "Like you could have done it better, stop being so judgemental." His wolf only then noticed Lady was out of his sight. When his master smirked at him, Greywind simply leaped to his feet and the two began to chase their ladies again.

Arriving eventually at the waterfall, that was the final reaching point of the chase, the young lady was already there sitting on a rock by the water looking very pleased with herself. "You fooled me, that was very unladylike coming from you." Robb said walking up to her, accepting the defeat with his head high for he already had in mind a revenge plan.

Sansa just gave him a sweet innocent smile. "Fool me once shame on you, fool me twice shame on me." Her brother chuckled to himself and leaned his head towards her. This time she was going to give him his well-deserved prize, but he chose instead to dip his hand into the water and splash her. "Robb!" She cried out playfully. "This dress is new."

"Not anymore." He laughed splashing her again.

The two of them kissed under the sunlight with only their wolves witnessing their sin. They could never be together like this at Winterfell, each day became even harder for them to act like brother and sister or not to share loving glances when they were in the same room. Visits to the other's chambers were restricted strictly to necessity not to raise suspicions.

Sneaking around was very tricky. You never know when you might run into someone you don't want to by accident, misfortune or wrong decisions. Therefore they needed a restricted place where they knew they would be alone with no one else to bother them away from everything and everyone.

At first afraid to step into the Forbidden Forest for well-known reasons, so far they were lucky not to run into any unwanted presences. Even more, the direwolves were growing fast and they seemed to be able to sense danger coming up for more than one time they have been saved by them from being discovered when they were stealing moments alone in the castle.

"How come the other White Walkers don't know about this place?" She asked him out of the blue, her fingers softly going through his curls as he rested his head against her chest in content silence. "How come just one or two end up here?" There had been only two incidents that she knew of, both of which happened and ended quite fast. A ranger deserting the Night's Watch and a man who wandered too far and got lost.

"They are dead people, love." He replies softly. "They act as a pack if you will, a strange one. They move together yet when one gets away and never comes back given their numbers, it's most likely because nobody notices one out of a thousand missing. If they wander up on their own, then that's on them." He pauses to bring her hand to his face and kiss her knuckles. "Humans don't care about other humans. The dead do even less."

She was worried they might run into one, he could feel that. Many have tried to hide the fact they exist and still do. If they weren't the Warden of the North's children, they would've probably believed the Army of the Dead was just a story to scare people. Unfortunately, they are not. Fortunately, they know how to get rid of them. Sansa's curiosity doesn't stop there. "How many are they? Does anyone know?" Hundreds of thousands for sure.

"Nobody knows truly. Some say they're more than people living in King's Landing." Which as of last year are over a million. "Others say their numbers are the same as every man who has ever died beyond the Wall from the beginning of their existence." Which was beyond than they could count. "We're safe. I'll keep you safe." She needed him to reassure her and he knew that.

"What if they find out? What if they come through this forest and kill us all?" That is a terrifying thought, but it seems the only way. They say the Wall's magic is keeping them far away, but if the dead manage to get south the Wall... Winterfell would most likely fall in a day and she didn't want that. She loved her home and her family and she doesn't want to lose them at the Dead Army's hand.

"Then I will die either with you or saving you." Robb replies firmly, his tone leaving no room for arguments. "If the threat arises, then my number one priority will be protecting you." He hasn't been through a true battle yet, only sparring so far. Not with enemies threatening his life, but family or friends. Yet for her, he'd fight the dead on his own if he has to if it means she stays alive and safe.

"And if we get separated?"

"Then I will do everything in my power to get back to you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the late update. I admit I waited for S8 to end to see if there is something I can add to the story, but given how it was... let's say I'm sticking to my original plot.


	18. Chapter 18

The King's arrival was the most exciting event to happen at Winterfell since the day Summer came, long before Sansa was born. This morning she was dressed in a new light blue gown to match her mother's dark one. Her hair only had a few braids being mostly down. Her mother thought that would put her beauty out, even more, saying that she was far more beautiful than her mother ever was at her age.

She didn't know what to reply, her mother was stunning in her eyes, but it was impolite to disagree with the Lady of Winterfell. She chose to remain silent. Her sister, Arya, was forced into a gown similar to their mother's. Her sister had more braids in her hair than she did. She looked like she was in pain trying to mask it as best as a girl her age could. Sansa sighed internally, Arya was always such a boy...

Speaking about them, the boys have been forced to shave their beards and she could guess from the looks on their faces that none of them liked it one bit. She found herself already missing Robb's beard as well, it was always tickling her face when they were kissing. And if she could be prompt about it, she thought the beard made him look more handsome.

It gave him a certain level of manliness that he doesn't have when shaved. When shaved, he was a boy and with the beard, he was a man. Her man. Her knight. Her... Her attention is sought by the carriages entering through the gates announcing the great arrival. Sansa's jaw falls open just as fast as it closes. She had been told the Prince was handsome, but he had more of the Queen in looks than he had his father.

He sends a smirk in her direction and she smiles secretly at him, obviously, both of them pleased with what they were seeing. If she was to be forced in a marriage she did not want, at least he seemed like a charming prince. She doesn't catch Robb's look of jealousy nor notices him sending a glare back to the Prince. The Prince doesn't notice him either, his eyes locked on Sansa.

The King compliments her looks and she shyly looks down smiling to herself. The greatest treat in the world, aside for an endless amount of lemon cakes, is to be complemented by the King of The Seven Kingdoms himself.

During the feast, she sees that his looks are better than his personality when he spends most of his time trying to enter her graces (she would've fallen heavily for him if her heart wasn't already belonging to someone else) with the same compliments she read in other love stories (he must've learned them thinking she won't figure it out) and especially when the Prince lost against Robb in a sparring match earlier in the day.

Although it was visible her brother was fighting more aggressive today than the other days, even Theon noted that, he easily disarmed Joffrey who lost his temper and insulted her brother in their own home. Before he could act upon his feelings, his fists clenching at his sides, Ser Rodrik stepped in just in time to prevent a future scandal from happening.

The Queen leaves a sour taste in her mouth, she was as beautiful as she was said to be, but her only interest laid whether if she has bled already to be able to give her son children. Her mother was pleased to see her talking to the Prince after the fight they had, little did she know Sansa still presented no interest in Prince Joffrey. He was handsome thanks to his looks being all Lannister, but that was all.

After a while, she retreats to her seat next to Lady Jeyne to eat. "Walk with me." Robb growls into her ear and heads off before she could tell him this would not be a good idea. How did he get to her so fast, being seated on the other side of the tent with the rest of the lords, but when her friend asks what was that all about she denies knowing anything. When she actually knew everything.

Sansa spends a little more time getting to speak with the other ladies, tells Arya she needs a diversion to leave and immediately regrets that when her face suffers an unfortunate encounter with Arya's food. Jon takes her back to her room when Robb is nowhere to be seen to do so, and Sansa politely excuses herself to get cleaned. She noticed as soon as her face wasn't pretty anymore, Prince Joffrey's interest in her faltered.

Robb is waiting for her outside her chambers. He doesn't say anything, but gestures with his head towards the door silently telling her they will speak inside. Once they enter the room, she bars the door and finds herself pressed against it. "What was that all about?" Robb growls in her ear, his grip on her hands none too gentle. "The moment someone prettier comes into the picture, you're ready to throw me aside?"

She tries to turn and deny it, tries to tell him she was surprised the Prince was far from what she imagined. She thought him to have the Baratheon average looks, not the beautiful Lannister gold. But when she opens her mouth, he kisses her forcefully. She tastes the wine he consumed on his lips mixed with his special, unique, scent. "You're mine, Sansa." And she doesn't want anyone else but him, but once he made her jealous too.

His head falls to her chest, his grip on her hands softening until his arms drop to his side. He hugs her to his chest, drunk and in love. "One word and I'll leave you alone." He breathes shakily. "For real. For good. One word, one gesture, anything, and we end now what we have and we'll never speak of it again. Do you want that?" He looks up to see her shaking her head frantically. "Good." He didn't know what he would've done if she said yes.

Sansa wraps her arms around his neck. "I love you." She tells him softly. "You know that I know you do." Because she doesn't care if he's drunk or angry, violent or a coward, brave or not, skilled or a failure, he is hers just as much as she is his. They belong to no one else, but each other. "Don't let a small inconvenience get between us... we'll figure something out together."

"You'll marry him." He rasps. Nearly loses his balance, manages to gain it back in time before he hits the ground by slamming his hands on the door each at one side of her head. "I don't want you to marry him." The thought of her being with him, having his children makes him want to empty his stomach. He will probably do that anyway in the morning when he is sober.

"I don't want to marry him either." She'd faster marry Robb any time any year without a second thought. She'd marry him in a barn if so. But Prince Joffrey? She wouldn't marry him even if the wedding would take place in the Great Chapel at the Red Keep. Eventually, Robb more stumbles his way back to his room than walk. He passes Theon on his way who asks where has he left, but the young lord simply shoves him aside and continues his road. 

His chamber never seemed further away.

Sansa laid in her bed staring at the ceiling, she tried turning from one side to another, she tried drinking some tea or counting sheep, yet sleep wouldn't come to her. She didn't want to leave her home and go South. She loved the snow and the wooden logs in her room gave enough heat, there was no need for her to go and get the Capital's heat to be warm. The North was plenty enough warm for her.

She didn't want to spend more time with the Queen than she had to, she seemed like a woman with many faces, even if it meant she would be Queen someday. Most of all, she didn't want to give herself to someone like Joffrey and have him to be the first man in her bed. She wanted to be with Robb and carry his children, not someone else's. But that was not possible. Not unless they leave and never come back.

Leave to some place or city where they would never be found, where they will be able to build a life together without worrying about getting caught. Somewhere they could openly be together and not pretend anymore they are just brother and sister. Of course, they would have to pretend to be someone they are not nor will ever be, but if that meant they could be together she'd renounce her name and her title in a breath.

When sleep finally takes her over, she wishes is that tomorrow will be better than today's day was and more than that she wishes for the King to leave soon, without her coming along, so everything could go back to normal. To the way it was.


	19. Chapter 19

He was tired and he was angry, boiling on the inside despite the heavy cold weather typical in the North that makes your skin crawl sometimes and even the furs provide little to no help. The wine, he kept drowning down his throat one after another were not soothing him in any way, but they certainly did not make things worse. With the empty mug before, looking around for a servant to refill it again, his eyes fall on Sansa.

Robb's gaze seems to stick to her, his eyes are unable to move from her petite, pale, face with a pinch of red in her cheeks and her braided hair. She smiles and laughs, and he finds himself smiling slightly at the sight of her simply being happy. The smile falls and turns bitter as the realization that she is going to the Capital hits and most likely love it there more. She will laugh more. And smile more. She will be Queen and she will be adored.

If it's selfish for him to wish to keep her here in the North with him, then he will be so. Robb can't begin to comprehend the mere idea of a wolf leaving the pack for a place where the sun shines more. It's unthinkable. How will she play if there is no snow? How will she adjust the Southern weather? She would have to give up on her furs and so, metaphorically, her heritage and legacy as a Stark girl.

He sees her smile and for a brief moment thinks she's smiling at him, tenses up at the public gesture knowing that what they are doing if they were to be caught they would be murdered on spot. Even the slightest glances they agreed not to steal whenever surrounded by people or just one person, afraid any sign could lead to their reveal and exposure. But then he realizes that she's not smiling at him, but at the Prince.

The royal prick who is an all bark no bite pup. Even calling him a pup is an insult to their wolf pups who had shown more bravery and character than the heir to the crown did. But he holds the crown, the title, the money, the Seven Kingdoms... all the things Robb will never dream to have. And most of all he is going to have Sansa, to wake up next to her, love her, marry and cherish her.

All while he will choose a woman of his mother and father's liking and forever be stuck as Lord of Winterfell and loyal servant to the Crown, to the future King. He will have to go to King's Landing someday and willingly kneel before him and proclaim him as his true King... Robb decides that he needs more ale and plans to drink himself into oblivion no matter how much he will be scolded in the morning for it...

He attempts to stand up and leave, but he is pulled back down before he can rise properly. His head sways, his vision is a little fogged, but even so, he will never be unable to recognize Theon no matter how drunk he gets. "And where do you think you're going like that?" Anywhere where is not here, he wanted to answer. "Leave like this now and you will never hear the end of it from your father and mother."

Robb wants to argue that their rules, the current King of the Seven Kingdoms, the man who defeated Rhaeghar Targaryen at the Battle Of Trident is drunker at the moment than he will ever be. But he holds back his tongue. His honor as a Stark tells him that after the fighting the man had done so he could be free right now and rule in peace when the time comes for him to, King Robert deserves that and more.

"What's the matter with you? You've been acting strange ever since the Crown arrived." Theon had seen a handful of times Robb very angry or very sad and there is nothing wrong with getting drunk, they had done that together a dozen times. But getting drunk at the feast surrounded by the royalties risking his father's reputation as well as a move too far for someone like Robb.

"Look, I don't like any of them either, but starting a fight with them now does not end well for you or your family no matter how you put it." Theon knew they had all sticks up their asses and liked to show how powerful and rich they were and that the Prince was one of the worst sissies he met (he met whores with far more character) but that is no reason to prove them that they have better mannerism as well.

"He's going to marry her." Robb rasped, his head swaying from side to side in an attempt to shake that thought off his mind. "I don't want him to marry her." It took Theon a while, but he realized eventually what this was all about. When he tried to look where Robb was looking and found Sansa at the table, Sansa who was going to leave the North as the Prince's betrothed. "She's a wolf of the North and she belongs here."

Bloody freaking Starks with their sense of honor and love for family. "She's going to be the Queen." The thought of bowing before either her or the Prince, two children who have no clue about what's out there in the real world kind of made him sick to the stomach. Or perhaps it was pork to blame. "Your family will hold even more power than it does now." Whoever in their right mind would give that up?

"If she leaves... then Jon is next. Then Arya. Then Bran. Bran who is so new to this world. Don't you care?" Theon asked himself why should he care? They weren't his family nor his siblings. They simply shared a roof while growing up and that is that. If he were to be honest, he'd be happier to see them leave. Jon might be an alright guy if he weren't a bastard, if he can't fuck the girls he doesn't care about them and the newest pup cries a lot. What's there to miss?

And if they are all to leave when Robb becomes Lord of Winterfell and he becomes his right-hand man, he will have more power than he does now. He will rule the North in Robb's shadow and people will acclaim and praise him for being such a good friend, person, and ally.

While he will never forgive the current Lord for taking him away from his family, his brothers who died leaving him behind as the only male heir to the Salt Throne (what would they think seeing him now so far up North that he is nearly one step away from the Wall) Theon cannot say that all the years he spent with Robb have been entirely awful and miserable. "I think you had too much to drink." A kind word or gesture here and there every now and then will not kill him.

"You're worse than the Queen's priest." Theon adds pointing his head at the said man drunken off as much as the King was. He likes to think that she brought him only put out how fateful she is to the Gods when in reality she doesn't give a fuck and just employed the first man to show at the call. She certainly doesn't seem to be the type of woman who prayed out of willingness and faith to religion.

Robb stands supported by his hands pushing at the table, walks slowly doing his best to appear fine. Theon doesn't follow. He is not a baby sitter nor a servant. But he sees from the corner of his eye how Robb comes to a brief stop to whisper something to Sansa then resumes his exit... pardon... his stumbling outside. How convenient that not too long after he leaves, Sansa has to too due to an unfortunate food incident with her sister?

As far as he knows they are not close like their father and King Robert are, but the coincidence of Robb leaving right before has him convinced Arya wasn't humiliating Sansa but helping her leave the feast with a plausible excuse. Jon lifts her like a doll and takes her out then the elder sister leaves too. What an interesting pattern.

Theon eventually finishes his wine and plate and decides is ready to return to his chamber. If he stumbles upon Robb, who appears to be half-drunk and half-awake, he doesn't mention that the other just came out of his room or ask about it. If Robb tries to shove him aside, he forgives telling himself his friend is drunk and doesn't think clearly, but he doesn't forget it either.

Theon sleeps soundly in that night, the alcohol in his body have bloody party inside of him with all of his organs and muscles and his head, bigger head, acting as the guest of honor with the moon outside as light and the distant howl of the wolves as lullaby.


	20. Chapter 20

"Have I... did I hurt you in any way last night?" Even getting the simple words out was making him nauseous enough to lean over the window and take a deep breath of clean air. He will never be able to live with himself if he... shamed her in any way. He was too drunk to think, to care, about the consequences of actions he had no control of. All he remembers is being sad and angry at the same time and drinking to be either sad or angry and not both.

"No. Robb, no. You were a gentle man." He doesn't believe that. "As much as someone in that state can be." That he believes. But what does it take to be a drunk gentle man in her eyes? Or is she being kind to him, sparing him of the painful details? He had to know... "You came in last night, we spoke about us and my upcoming marriage then you left and that was all." Because if he hurt her, she would tell him. Right?

"I think it's starting to come back to me." Robb rubbed his hand over his face, his head ached and the harder he tried to remember, the more it hurt. "I... said to you something about marriage, right? To the Prince..." More talking to himself, he began to ramble under his breath. "I think I said some things I didn't mean to... The memories I have, which are true, which are not, I can't tell."

Is Joffrey still having all of his teeth in his mouth? Did he shove Theon or Theon shoved him? Did he meet with his father or his mother?

"Well, you did say something interesting last night" Rather than to keep quiet, she wanted to tell him to get a straight answer. Now, while he's being completely honest about everything. "Something I can't say I would've seen coming." Joining him by the window, Sansa raises her head to cup his face and make him look at her and only her. "You've been vocal about not wanting me to marry Prince Joffrey... more than usual."

She would marry him instead in a heartbeat, no matter if it means being forced to give up her name as a Stark or her noble rights as a lady. Because she loves him as she loves eating lemon cakes or watching the sun rising and the world catching life along with it. Because she thinks he's worth it. And whatever sacrifice she'd have to make, it would be nothing compared to being able to be with Robb in public as she is with him in secret.

Last night was the first time she heard him telling her directly that he doesn't want her to marry the Prince. And she heard some rumors as well earlier in the morning when she was breaking her fast with her mother that Robb argued the previous night with their father trying to convince him to let her stay in Winterfell. "I argued with mother about that and it didn't get me anywhere nearer you."

He could remember now, stumbling upon his father nearly falling at his father's feet, who was retiring to his chambers once the King retired as well. He stopped his father and begged him not to send Sansa away. Begged him to let her stay in the North where she belongs and promised he will do anything and be better if he were to let stay. Robb told his father how if she leaves, then so will the rest of the family and he will be left alone.

He doubts he was taken serious even for a moment given his obvious state of body and mind. Neither seemed to respond to the commands anyway. The conversation is inexistent in his head, the memories are foggy and the dialogue is like a burnt paper. Some pieces you can read, some you can't. If anything, the Lord of Winterfell might be angry with his son's behavior for getting himself drunk while they were hosting the royal family.

Ned and Robert might be brothers in all but blood, but Robert was the King and Ned his loyal subject.

"We should've seen this coming." Robb sighs walking away from the window, in case someone might notice him there if they have not already, going to sit on the edge of her bed burying his head in his hands. "We should've prepared. Actually, we had the time to prepare. We just chose to spend it unwisely." He was not ready to say goodbye, to let go of her.

He was not ready to end what they had because it was the only bringing him comfort. There is an entire castle he will have to keep standing, thousands of people he will have to feed, who will look up to him for advice and strength. He has been trained all his life for that, but the pressure that comes with it has never been mentioned. How can he be expected to rule the entire North when he can't find the strength to let his sister go?

"I think we both knew all the time that at some point either of us will have to marry, but we chose to live in the present. To be honest, I thought it would be you rather than me. But... Perhaps it is not so bad." Robb raises his head to look at her, the question obvious on his lips. "I will be Queen and you will be Lord of Winterfell." She could, with time, convince Prince Joffrey to travel to the North or let her go on her own if he does not fancy the road.

"I suppose we could have turned out worse." Robb admits weakly. Being a Queen doesn't sound so bad for her. He should be happy. He should be proud. "For the life of me Sansa, I can neither let go nor forget what happened between us." He cannot pretend he hasn't found solace in her or that he feels at ease when she's around, when her pale fingers touch his cheeks or his hair.

When her rosy lips touch his skin it sends enough warmth in his body that logs are no longer needed in chambers. One reassuring smile from her and no problem is unsolvable. Whoever said every King needs a Queen was a brilliant man who has found his love and realized how important her presence in his life was. Not for carrying children, but for keeping the man sane and going throughout his life.

"You make it sound like I can." Sansa replies softly, settling herself in his lap, her hands wrapping his neck chaining to him. "Just because I will have Seven Kingdoms doesn't mean they will fill the hole in my heart once I leave and you stay." Her home was where Robb was. King's Landing will never be her home as long as Robb is not there. Her home is wherever he is.

He kissed her hard, kissed her as if this was the moment they were going to say goodbye as if this was the last the day of Summer, pouring his love in it and the feelings he had for her since the day he stopped seeing her as a sister. "I love you. Gods, how I love you. All of you. All about you." _I don't care how wrong it is, let me burn in the Seven Hells as long as I can have this for the rest of my life._

Gently pulling away, she gingerly pecked his lips before rising and fixing her dress. "I have to go. I promised mother I will see the Prince today. And it is a good opportunity for Lady to take a walk and see the outsides." Walking to the mirror, she looked at her reflection trying to see whether her braid has been ruined or not. She spent the morning doing it herself and she was proud of her work.

Robb watches her mesmerized by her beauty, so simple and so magnificent. He saw the Queen's ladies matching each other's braids to look like hers and they were so... plain. Plain and boring compared to the life and joy Sansa brings only with her presence. The words escape his mouth before he can hold his tongue. "...The bastard has no idea how lucky he is."

Sansa turned around sharply with a small gasp and her jaw dropped slightly. "Stop that. You can't say such things, someone might hear you." She needs to remind herself to teach him some manners, in the past, he has skipped the lessons and now it is starting to show! "He's our prince and we have to respect him. If we disrespect him, we disrespect our King and Queen."

"I'll find Jon." The young man knew it was his time to leave, stalling this morning as much as he could. "You take your walk with that prick and if you're in need of any rescue just send Lady over. I happen to know quite a few men who would like to show the Lannisters they do not rule us." Just because Cersei Lannister was Queen, it does not mean her family can do around/with the North whatever they wish.

A recent example would be Jaime Lannister walking around the grounds of Winterfell seeking to fight anyone who would accept his challenge then kill them mercilessly playing off as a mistake, a slip of hand at the moment and Tyrion Lannister having already visited most of the northern brothels then showing up at the castle discussing it caring less if the lords and ladies wanted to hear his stories or not. 

"It's just a walk." Sansa laughed it off, amused at his behavior. "Nothing is going to happen."


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our first full Jon P.OV. chapter

Jon was outside with his little brother, entrusted by his father to watch over him for the day. Something at the feast from the previous night had not pleased her stomach and now the Lady of Winterfell was unfortunately bedridden. After checking over with the Maester twice, Ned quickly decided that all she needs to do is to lay down and rest and that she is not to be disturbed with matters of any kind. 

At first, his father wanted to take care of young Bran for the day himself but knowing that he had enough on his plate already with the King who was very much a child in a grown man's body and the tention the Lannisters were creating, Jon offered instead. It took some persuading and a common agreement that they have to be watched which paid off in the end as, under the Septa's heavy watch, he got to spend some time with his little brother.

He was walking around the castle with Bran in his arms showing him lots of interesting places or rather what he believed to be interesting hoping that once day Bran will find them interesting too (if not then he will just have to get another brother). "See that? One day you will sit there and watch over your people. When you're older, I'll take you up on the walls and together we're gonna watch how far your lands stretch."

He liked to talk to his baby brother, seeing him as one of the very few people who love him unconditionally despite his bastard lineage. Bran was just a newborn, but when his tiny fist grasped Jon's finger and looked at him with his big brown eyes, Jon knew it was genuine love and not pity. People fake their feelings and their words to please another or to intentionally hurt them.

With babies, you always know that what comes out of their mouth, whether they like or are repulsed by you, it's nothig else but the honest truth. Bran just kept his small hands to his chest and listened on, dozing off to his brother's soothing voice every now and then opening his eyes before closing them again.

"Ghost. Boy. What are you doing here?" Nearly tripping over his feet with the direwolf snuggling between them suddenly who circled his left one and rubbed his white-furred head against his calf, Jon would've been upset if the pup wouldn't be so damn cute. He looked over his shoulder and glanced at the Septa asking himself why hadn't she said a word of warning. He could have dropped Bran!

Not that he would have. Most likely, Jon thought, he would've put himself out front and take the fall into the muddy ground and the humiliation that came with it as well... Still... Then he realized she somehow, up to a point, wanted him to drop the baby. Wanted him to fail, so she could run to Lady Catelyn and tell her all about it. How the noble bastard of Winterfell almost killed Lord Eddard's youngest son. 

What a story would that be...

The direwolf silently kept trailing after them, happy to be in Jon's presence, joined soon after by Summer. Since all of them already have one for themselves, they decided that when the time comes they will give Summer to Bran and until then they will take turns in taking care of both the wolf and the small child. Jon came up with the name after having the weirdest dream and Summer seemed to like it. 

And today was obviously his turn to watch the wolf. 

He knows Summer and better than that he knows his boy. And when the two wolves howl loudly without warning or any visible danger at sight breaking into a wild run darting outside the gates, Jon knew he had to follow them. Gently passing his baby brother to the Septa, telling her to take him to his mother because it was time for him to be fed, he turned around and began to follow the trace of the direwolves. 

He reached the gates just in time to see them running straight into the Forbidden Forest, disappearing into the trees. _For the Gods' sake, what got them so worked up?_ There was only one way to find out. "Ghost!" He called urgently, looking around, dodging branches in his hurry to find the wolves before they hurt themselves. "Summer! Boys? Come here!" This place was not safe for them. They were only pups learning how to adjust to life.

He kept walking trying to find the direwolves or anything that would lead him to them, but all the trees looked the same and at some point, he began to believe he was spinning in circles like a fool until Summer found him. The wolf looked at him for a moment as Jon tried to coax him into going home before turning around and going off in the opposite direction.

As strange as it sounds, peculiar and a little mad, Jon Snow somehow knew the wolf wanted to be followed this time. It wasn't long before he reached Ghost, with his heart beating harder and faster fearing for the worst cursing himself at the same time for leaving completely unarmed, he nearly sighed in relief at the sight of the prominent white fur in the darkened place. That's when he spotted another wolf by his side.

"Nymeria?" And by her side at the foot of the tree with her knees to her chest and her arms wrapped around her legs, her head buried, hidden, but her light unmistakeable brown hair was what gave the owner away. "Arya?" Her head snapped up and her blue eyes widened in fear for a moment before she relaxed at the sight of Jon, jumping to her feet and straight in his arms.

"What are you doing here?" He scolded when they pulled apart, gently grasping her arms and looking over for any kind of wounds. "Do you know how dangerous this place is? It's called the Forbidden Forest for a reason." He knew she had a thirst for adventure and a passion for exploring but this was not a place for a girl of her age to enter on her own. What if the stories are real? What if there are White Walkers? What if she ran into them alone?

"Then why are you here?!" She cried out at him. He didn't know what to answer to that. She shook her head, the last thing she wanted to make him think she's mad at him and began to ramble. "I didn't know where else to go! They are going to kill her I know it!" She glanced at Nymeria with watery eyes. "She won't let go of me! I don't know what to do!" Jon is not like the others. Jon will understand.

"Alright, calm down. Tell me what happened and then we'll see how we can fix it." Arya was no scared little girl. If she ran off, to the Forbidden Forest instead of their father, then it was bad. And Jon was ready to help her out with whatever he could. His mind was already coming up with excuses and speeches of how he was at fault and she had done nothing wrong.

"Mycah and I were just playing. I swear! It was a harmless spar and nothing more than that. I only wanted to practice with him because I couldn't find you." If she wouldn't be in this state, he'd be very honored to hear that. He knew she was more of a tomboy than a lady, but he wasn't sure if she wanted to learn sword fighting or not... He has something in his mind that she's going to love having. If things work out well.

"Sansa and Joffrey came out of nowhere, taking a walk or something then he pretended to be offended at Mycah for calling him ' _My lord'_ drew out his sword and started to cut Mycah's face. Mycah was in pain and I saw him cutting even deeper. All I had was my wooden sword and I hit him in the head with it." If something happens to her Mycah, her friend, her only true friend, she will never forgive herself for that and definitely will never forgive Joffrey for it.

"He tried to attack me with his sword, swung it at me as if I was the enemy on the battlefield, but Nymeria ran up and bit his hand. Mycah ran off and so did I after I threw his sword in the river, but she won't leave me alone! I tried everything to send her away! I threw rocks at her but she wouldn't leave!" Arya was now openly crying and sobbing before Jon. "He will kill her. I know he will. And I don't want her to die. Not like this. Not by him." [1]

Jon breathed out loudly, everything in his body begging him to march over to the Prince and punch him for each time he threatened/aimed/swung his sword at Arya. However, she needed him with her more now than she needed him to beat some pansy boy black and blue. "We're going to pretend she ran away." He said looking at Nymeria while wiping her tears away. "Nobody in their right mind is going to look for her here of all places."

Folks native from the North are scared of it, southerners are completely terrified. "Summer can stay with her so she won't get lonely. I am going to ask Robb for help and we'll build her a cage. It's not ideal, but at least until the Royal Family goes away that's her only chance of survival." Arya nodded and jumped in his arms once again, sending a thankful prayer to the Gods for giving her a brother like Jon.

"We have to go back now. We're not safer here than we are at Winterfell. Father will be worried and your mother too." Probably there are search parties looking for her as they spoke. "I need to meet with Robb. The King will certainly want to see you and hear the story. I need to check with Sansa... but everything will be alright. You just be a good lady."

Arya lifted her head from his chest and looked at him as if she wished she hit him in the head with the wooden sword as well. He thought she was adorable, especially when she tried to look so mean and threatening. "How about no?"

"Good." Jon chuckled. "You had me worried for a moment."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 - I know that part might a bit too OOC from Arys. As a fellow dog owner, I could never throw rocks at mine or, if I were in her situation, do it without crying my eyes out. 
> 
> I like to think that the day she shunned Nymeria away after she retired to her room, where she was all alone and she did not have to play pretend anymore that she did cry for her. And if Jon would've been there, she wouldn't have been ashamed to cry in his presence.


	22. Chapter 22

"I need your help." Jon practically crashed into Robb like a wind of an angry winter when he found his brother outside, furred up, ready to go and search the area by their father's side. Luckily, the young Lord was surrounded only by people minding their own business, or just passing him by, who gave the bastard of Winterfell just one look before going back to what they were doing.

"Not now, Arya is missing." Robb hissed, a little angry with Jon for missing during such an upsetting night, a little angry with Sansa because they had another argument about her supposed future in King's Landing, and a little angry with himself for not being able to control his emotions better when his little sister was out missing and probably needing him now more than she ever did before.

Robb made move to walk away and join the others in another search party to spread out in the areas that have not been searched yet when Jon firmly grabbed his arm turning him back. "Not anymore." He said quietly, watching the curiosity in his brother's eyes slowly turn to realization. With too many eyes and too many ears around Jon knew it was not safe to explain everything Arya told him there. "Come with me."

Theon came outside, fixing his clothes for the windy weather, putting on his gloves, when he saw the other two already retreating. "Oy!" He shouted, but neither turned. "Where are you going?" Lord Eddard made it clear they were to search alongside and not on their own. Theon couldn't care less. With the windy weather, he'd like better to search inside the castle, but he didn't want to be the only one scolded for it.

"To talk about poetry!" Jon replied sharply and ironically at the same time, not in the mood to deal with him and his persona or his curiosity born instantly the moment he saw them speaking them in hushed tones. Jon was already pushing Robb away from the ear sight, occasionally looking over his shoulder to make sure they were not followed. Greywind and Ghost excluded.

He filled his brother in on their way, letting Ghost take the lead since his nose was the best map they had at hand with the moon so high on the sky. The only source of light they had was the torch Robb was given when he about to head out searching for his sister. Nymeria looked up at them with wide worried, pleading eyes, when they reached her, knowing somehow that her days might be numbered and Arya might be in trouble because of her.

"She can't stay here." It was the first thing Robb said, bending to rub her behind the ear as he remembered she liked when Arya did that to her. "Not like this." Anything could happen to her. If she gets out of the forest and gets spotted she might get killed on spot. "We need to build her a cage. Away from sight. Only for a while, until the royal family leaves, then we'll see what we'll do after that and to whom we speak to about this."

Jon nodded, relieved to know his brother has his back into this matter. He didn't want Theon involved, the man had a big ego and an even bigger mouth. He would've instantly given them away. And Jon was also partially concerned because Theon and Robb have been spending a lot of time together lately. Two people cannot spend time together without rubbing off something of theirs to the other. If they can then they are not meant to be no matter what type of relationship they have.

Now, he realizes he had nothing to be worried about. "I'll see that we get the necessary materials. You are to be a Lord, you will be easily seen and called out which will attract suspicion and raise questions." He continues before his brother can make his argument on how Jon shouldn't be seen as anything less than a Stark man. "Better not risk it." Perhaps his status as a bastard can come in handy this time.

"I don't care what they say. You are to me my brother as much as Bran is and as much Arya is my sister. Now and always." Jon couldn't love him more. It wasn't much, but it was complete honesty behind those words, honest feelings of brotherly love, and Jon couldn't love him more for that even if he named him his heir. "If you think it is better in that way..." Robb sighed defeatedly wishing to return inside the castle.

"Aye. We shall see to it in the morning. We need to return. They are going to bring Sansa and Arya before the King at the Great Hall... if they have not already." Robb stood to his feet and they rushed back. They had to be there.

* * *

"Now, child... Tell me what happened. Tell it all and tell it true. It's a great crime to lie to a King."

Sansa looked at the Queen who was giving her a warning one in return, sharp, as a lioness circling her prey.  Joffrey looked at her with his eyes narrowed as if he truly hated her and he could hardly bear being in the same room as her. Her King could not look more annoyed. She looked at her father for guidance who gave her a nod, his permission to go ahead.

Sansa looked at her feet and swallowed nervously feeling all the eyes in the room on her and only her. She could lie and make friends with the Lannisters for siding with them while her siblings will become her enemies. Stay neutral. Or tell the truth and then because of her House Stark would gain House Lannister as their worst enemy. When Joffrey will climb on the Iron Throne the first thing he will remember is how his betrothed betrayed him.

She had two choices, make the South pay for what they caused or make the North suffer the consequences of her loyalty. And then there is Robb. She realizes then and there that this is where she chooses her man. This is where she proclaims her love, on whose side she will always choose to stay by. And she wanted Robb more than anything else. "Prince Joffrey attacked my sister and her friend." [1]

If she could not marry him then at least she will be in the same Kingdom as he is. Whatever comes next they can face it as long as they are together. The Queen looks like she would murder her on spot if the people inside the room would not be present. Sansa takes a shaken breath and continues, blurting it all out afraid that if she pauses even for a moment she will lose her courage and her words.

"In a childish bicker about nothing but the words unused, to display his power and wealth, the Prince harmed my sister's friend and then he tried to hurt her." She could hear clearly the gasps of shock as she went on. She wanted to look at her mother to see her expression yet she found herself unable to do it, afraid of what she might see. She didn't even dare to think what would her father say to her about shaming his best friend's son this way.

"He tried to hurt Arya with his sword, his real sword. He waved it at her, he could have disemboweled her, but she was quick enough to dodge his attempts. She disarmed him and taught him a lesson about power by throwing his sword into the river. Prince Joffrey called her foul names and he treated me horribly when I only tried to help him. Arya is faultless in this matter and so is Nymeria."

With one look at the Queen, Sansa knew she had her fate sealed. No one had ever looked at her with such hatred. The Prince had the same look he had when he swung his sword at her sister giving the young lady the impression that he regretted not swinging his sword at her instead. She couldn't bear to look at her father or her mother knowing she ruined any chances they had at being part of the royal family.

What if the King is angry? What if they call upon their armies? What if she just started a war between her father and his best friend because she didn't know to hold her tongue when she should have?

Queen Cersei opens her mouth to speak, to break the silence born after hearing the shocking confessions, and Sansa expects the worst to come with her head held high.

* * *

Jon was on his way to see his sister, marching down the halls of Winterfell with his boots loudly echoing when Robb showed up out of nowhere and dragged him away. "I need your help."

"Not now, Sansa needs us more." He breaks Robb's grip on his arm, taking a step back coming to a halt. "They are going to kill her direwolf." And there was nothing they could about it, but to comfort their grieving sister. He is more than surprised, and upset, that Robb is not there with her when she needs him the most.

"Not anymore." It takes Jon a couple of moments to understand the meaning behind those words. "Come with me." He remains quiet after he does, but gives a nod along with his silent agreement and he follows Robb outside into the darkness.

The things they do for love...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today I turned 21. I had a really good day and by that I mean I really had fun, not even faked it (usually I dislike my birthdays) and what better way to end the day than with an update of what I consider to be my best story out so far? 
> 
> 1 - If Sansa would have been in love with anyone, literally anyone else from the show even the butcher's boy, beside Joffrey, she would have totally defended Arya. No one can convince me the otherwise.


	23. Chapter 23

Jon was deep asleep worn out by the intense training he undertook. Ever since his uncle Benjen spoke to him about the Night's Watch, he could think of little else. He trained even harder than he did before to be sure he could take upon all the kinds of people that end up at the Wall with his mind made up that there is where he is going to go and spend the rest of his life at.

Although he lived better than most bastard-born children, well-raised by his father, loved by his siblings, never hungry or poor, lived in a castle, had a noble's upbringing, received a highborn education and martial training, he always felt like an outsider. Like someone who barged upon a happy family, while they were having a nice and warm meal together, and wouldn't leave them alone anymore.

Perhaps without him, they can finally catch a break and live their lives normal. As normal as one brother and sister in love with each other and another sister who wants to fight like a man than knit by the fire can be. He loved them all dearly, including precious newborn Bran, but he could never completely shake off the feeling that he was an intruder into their home whom they eventually learned to accept.

He is awakened roughly by his direwolf who bit into the cloth of his left arm, which was hanging off the bed, and nearly dragged him out of it. Blinking, jumping up to his knees, believing they were under attack, he calmed when he saw only Ghost and forced himself not to snap. "What, you can't get out on your own? You never seemed to have a problem with that before." Only it wasn't that. There was something very wrong with Ghost.

Usually calm, quiet, loved to make himself small, didn't care about receiving anyone else's attention but Jon's, now he was agitated, his tail wagging wildly, jumping from side to side, upfront and then back, barking, breathing heavily, unable to sit still. Laying backward while his front claws firmly set in the wooden floor, he growled at his master and for a moment Jon could have sworn his red eyes glowed in the dark.

"What's the matter, boy? What's the problem?" Moving closer to pet him, Ghost's teeth dived again in his cloth and violently pulled him forward. "Alright, alright, I'll follow you." He had to know what it was that turned Ghost into this. Outside his chambers, into the moon's dim light, he saw Greywind as well scratching with his front paws at Robb's door just as urgently as Ghost awakened him. It dawned on him then. _Lady and Nymeria._

Knowing Robb is one of the lightest sleepers he has ever met if he didn't let his direwolf in by now then he is not inside his room. There might be another place he would be in, but Jon thought Robb wouldn't be that stupid to risk everything for the sake of sharing a bed. Grabbing one furred cloak from his room he bolted after his direwolf who ran so fast he had trouble keeping up with him, Greywind right behind who gave up on trying to get Robb's attention.

Outside the Forbidden Forest, Summer was waiting for them. Bolting out of his place, where he stood waiting in the snow like a statue, he ran inside quickly disappearing into the darkness. Jon panted but followed them again nevertheless. Reaching the place where Robb and he left Lady and Nymeria, for a moment he wondered what could have possibly been so wrong when the two were perfectly safe inside their cages.

The two wolves were not making a sound, both awake, alive and well, hidden by the giant leaves they strategically put all over the cages to make them look like they are a part of the forest itself. If it weren't for the yellow eyes that stood out in the dark Jon wouldn't have been able to spot them so easily on the first try. 

Then his heart stopped. His heart stopped. His breath hitched, his chest tightening to the point where he was completely holding his breath. His eyes widened in shock and remained that way somehow convinced that even a simple blink would give him away. His lips parted to gasp, but he found he couldn't even make a sound. He thanked the Seven that the direwolves were just as quiet.

The urgency wasn't about something that happened to Lady or to Nymeria. It was about what could happen to them if nobody would do something. Dead, disappeared, unheard from for thousands of years, the White Walkers fell into a legend and a bedtime story to scare or to toughen up the young children. But the one wandering around, not too far from the wolves or Jon, was more real than his status as a Stark.

He retreated quietly, praying for his boots not step on any branch by mistake while his eyes locked on the Walker, and once it was safe Jon ran back to the castle. Thankfully the wolves were protected and unseen. Jon couldn't risk trying to free them and make themselves known to the Walker. It would have done more harm than good... How could they have been so stupid?

If anything happens to either Lady or Nymeria, Jon will never forgive himself for choosing commodity instead of safety. Running back to Winterfell faster than he ever ran anywhere in his life, he wasted no time and went straight to Sansa's room. He banged on the door loudly a couple of times before leaning on it. "Sansa, open the door, it's me." He growled urgently, holding himself not to shout out. Time was of the essence.

Not too long after, he heard the door unbarring and slightly opening. Peaking out a little with her little blue eye, her white nightgown making itself a little known as well, Sansa breathed out in relief when she saw Jon and stepped back to let him in. Walking inside, he turned to his brother who was hiding behind the door relief washing over him like a soothing hot spring in winter. "Do we have any torches still burning? Any dragonglass? Anything at all?"

The relief turned in confusion, Robb raised an eyebrow asking himself why it was so important for Jon to know that at this hour. He panicked heavily when he heard the banging at the door, sleeping peacefully under the furs with Sansa in his arms. All that was missing to make everything perfect was Lady at the foot of the bed and Greywind whom he had no memory where he left his boy off.

"Why would you need fire or dragonglass?" His sister asks, rubbing her eye with her hand. It's probably the first time Jon sees her with her hair down, he likes it. Gives her that entire northern look from head to toe. The South was never meant for her. It would have ruined her. But that can be discussed on another night because they had greater problems to take care of at the moment.

Jon pauses for a moment. Even admitting the truth sends a shiver down his spine. They are incredibly unprepared. Not just them, but the entire North. Seven Hells, they are close to meet their end and they spend their time wondering who will marry who? "They're real. The stories are real. It's all real." He could tell Robb was glad to have his back against the wall as support.

He himself cannot recover from what he saw with his own eyes. He doesn't see the doubt in his brother's eyes but sees instead a plead for it to not to be real. Robb knows just how unprepared, untrained, uneverything they are if the Army of Dead decides to strike. "It's true. I saw for myself." Unfortunately for Robb, Jon never knew how to tell a lie.

"How do you...?" What begins as a question asked in confusion of the matter ends on Sansa's lips with a cold realization. "Lady." At least he didn't have to explain. "Is she in danger?!" If it weren't for the matter at hand, Jon would have been surprised at the sudden growl in her tone as he was when the King declared that with Nymeria missing, Lady will pay for her sister's crimes. Now, that's a wolf of the North.

"Sansa, you are to stay here." Robb cuts in sharply, gathering himself. When she opens her mouth to speak her mind he cuts her off before she makes a single sound. "I won't stand for any kind of argument, I don't want you anywhere near danger. Jon and I will deal with this." Nodding to his half-brother, they walk out and head first towards his room to fetch a furred cloak for himself.

Sansa shakes her head in frustration, she wanted to help and to make sure her Lady is safe but knew Robb couldn't keep her safe and himself as well while fighting something they never thought they would have to face. Going to bar the door again and attempt to get back to sleep, she jumps when she sees Arya out in the hall. "Where did you come from?" How did she get here so silently? Was she there the whole time?

"I heard Jon banging at your door." Arya looks at her feet before replying. "I peeked out to see what's going on and I saw them leaving in a hurry. Did the Lannisters do something? Is father alright? What about mother? If it's the Lannisters again, I swear..!"

Sansa pulls her inside before her voice and dozen questions manage to wake up the castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one goes for Anand. Since I read your comment about your birthday being today, I went straight to my notepad and started writing. Happy birthday, sweetling ❤


	24. Chapter 24

The two quietly made their way to Robb's chambers first to fetch a furred cloak for him. They grabbed two torches from the hall, left there to replace the ones that will be burnt out in the sunrise, before they ventured into the woods. Theon nearly ran into them, coming back from a whore house where he and Ros met and got to know each other properly, but he hid in time into the shadows. Helped by the darkness he went unseen, but he quickly realized it was more to his bright quick thinking than met the eye.

They passed him without sparing a look in his direction, walking down the hall with faces of determination like they were focused on one crucial thing. It seemed as if they were on their way to assassinate Robert Baratheon after having it planned for months down to the last detail and last breath. He knew they were much too honorable, like their Lord father, to do such stupid thing, not to add the wars it would start, but envy began to crawl up on his skin.

He tried to find the power to enjoy the fact that he got away and he could safely return to his chambers, act in the next sunrise as if he was there the whole time then resume to his noble activities, or to praise himself good for how well he actioned, but he couldn't. Because he knew they were up to something that did not include him as well. And that only fueled the anger he already had towards the Starks for taking him away from his father and brothers.

His brothers whom they killed in the rebellion just as much as the men who did, one of them sworn to House Tully to add insult. His homelands where he could be reigning as Prince, legitimate heir to the Salt Throne, instead of being here with them in the North, used and commanded around as if he was a servant. A noble servant thanks to his last name that still meant something in the Seven Kingdoms... But a servant no less.

Jon waited until they were safely outside the castle's walls to speak his mind, glancing over his shoulder a couple of times just to be sure. These days the walls have ears and the floors have eyes, nothing seems to be safe or private anymore. Greywind whined happily when he saw Robb, ran up to him curling around his legs, getting even between them as they kept walking, without making him lose his balance, stumble and fall.

"It's interesting how they immediately felt the danger and came for help when they knew they could not do it alone." He said as they made their way through the snow. "Poor thing scratched your door wildly as Ghost got me up and ready... must I say... interesting place I found you in tonight." They were getting reckless, too comfortable. As the elder, the one more experienced with life between the two, Robb should have known better.

Robb looked at him surprised then with wonder as if he was silently asking him if that is what is more important to him at the moment. Jon did not want mimics, he wanted answers. "It's not like that." Robb replied a little bit more forcefully than he wished to. "Nothing happened and nothing is happening other than sharing a bed to rest at night." He said it the same way as if he spat it out.

"She needed to be comforted after the Queen demanded Lady's life and I wasn't going to turn my back on her." The Stark heir added even though his brother did not demand more of him. "The Gods know how I would start killing around without mind if someone told me they want my Greywind's head." Sansa needed him and he was there for her. She was crying herself to sleep, he had to do something.

If the two of them found a middle that was convenient for both sides, then why should he feel sorry? Every day they wake up together, it's Sansa who walks out first and checks the halls before telling him it's safe to go. When the maids wake up before them and knock at her door, they pretend they don't hear anything, that only Sansa is there and she is still asleep and wait until they hear them leaving.

They have it all under control and everything was going on the way they planned it. Since the King, but he was sure it was the Queen, annulled the betrothal between Joffrey and Sansa, that meant she could stay in the North where she belonged.

Jon did not say anything else, but he shook his head and remained quiet for the rest of the way. The Gods are kind tonight for both wolves are still caged, hidden, alive and well.

"It's a Walker." Robb gasps quietly once he sees it, feeling the air leaving his chest then shutting his lips close in case even the slightest breath could give them away from their position. "It's a Walker." He repeats himself, the shock still intact, feeling his skin crawl. "Jon, it's a real Walker." It wasn't supposed to be real. How could it be? With that, then the worst nightmare he never knew he had became real as well.

"Thanks, it was kinda foggy and I couldn't tell for sure." But Jon's sarcasm did not make him laugh.

"They were a myth. They are a myth." Robb continued with a slight shake of his head without taking his eyes off of the Undead as if he still couldn't believe what was right in front of him. "A children's story. They're not supposed to exist." Yet the one that he sees right now is more than real. It is there. And it means there are more than just that one. It's not just a wandering Walker. The Army of Dead is real, it's all real!

"Aye, but it seems someone forgot to tell that one that." Turning his head to his brother, he wants nothing more than to smack him and get him back to the real world. "We have to remind it it doesn't belong here." The Walker is not going to go away by itself and if it does then that would be even worse. They need to take it down now, but he can't do it on his own. If they are true, then what's been said about them is true as well.

The young man shakes his head and blinks as if to wake himself up and get a grip on reality. He's scared as he has never been before, but he needs to be brave. If he is not brave, then he's putting at risk the entire North. He's putting his family at risk if he's not going to do something about it. Sansa. Arya. His mother and his father. They need him to be brave and more than that, they need him to be a warrior. "I'm with you."

"We need to be careful. As far as I can remember from the stories, they can be killed with fire or dragonglass, but there is a catch..." Yes, he could remember it very well. Old Nan always had a way with words, such method you could never forget them or her story-telling voice. "One touch from theirs to yours and then there is no hope. We need to make sure it dies without becoming members of the Army of the Dead ourselves."

Robb wanted to ask him how does he manage to be so calm. How can he be so fearless at a time like this when the worst myth of them all, the most terrifying story of them all, was proven to be true right before their eyes? When the real threat to not their lives only, but everyone's, is not a King or Queen, nor self-made monarchs or rebellious Lords, but Death itself in shape and form? A closer look at his brother gives him the answer.

Jon is scared. Jon is very scared. Maybe even more than he is. He may be able to control his voice, but the tremble in his hands, his fingers shaking as they tightly hold the torch, his chest going up and down faster than normal, his breath, the little things and gestures are what give him away entirely. He realizes with shame that Jon is controlling himself because he could not, for how are two brave men making the difference in a war compared to two scared men?

Taking a couple of steps back until he was sure the area he was in was safe, Robb knocked the rocks together firing up the torch. Jon looked back at him and gave an approving nod. Rising to his feet ready to aim and throw the torch directly on the Walker to take it down in one try, he never managed to let it out of his grasp as a sudden cold, unnatural, wild wind blew for a few short seconds. It was more than enough to put the fire out.

They knew they were discovered. "Did you know they could that?" Jon was just as shocked as he was. If they can blow winds like that at command, then it is very little they can do to save themselves and the wolves. Glancing around himself, Robb finds they are being enveloped in some kind of fog thick enough to be cut with a sword. If Jon were to be any further, he probably wouldn't be able to distinguish him. 

The shining, crystal, blue eyes he always heard about, embodied into the Walkers differentiating them from the living aside from the blue iced skin have disappeared... then he sees them opening right behind Jon.


	25. Chapter 25

"Jon! Look out!"

Dropping nearly to his knees and rolling away, Jon's heart nearly failed him as he made eye contact with the Walker. The Walker took a step closer as Jon attempted to crawl away and raise to his feet, but every time he turned his head for a split of second to see if he could stand without hitting a tree by mistake and get stuck long enough for the Walker to make him one as well, it was getting dangerously closer to him.

Jon's shoulder hit the back of something and he looked up to see his brother Robb swinging his sword at the Walker slamming it into its sideway ribs without going much further. Dropping the handle as the sword remained still into the Walker's body, Robb used his free hands to help Jon up and both of them backed away from the myth that was no longer such.

The undead slowly went for the weapon stuck in its body, its fingers barely touched it and they turned it into ice before it broke in tiny pieces. "Hold it back." The young lord whispered to be whispered to his half brother. "I'll get the wolves and we'll get out of here." His plan was to take the wolves to safety and wake his father to tell him what happened. If their weapons are useless, then there is nothing left that they can do.

If there was anyone not only in Winterfell but in the whole North who would know if they had any dragonglass hidden somewhere in the castle and remain silent about the White Walkers threat as well, that would be him. The people don't need to know, that would cause chaos in mass and would bring no good. Especially since they are on thin ice with the Crown for the whole incident that brought them here now.

Parting away, Jon grabbed as many stones in his hands as he could and dived in the opposite direction from his brother while throwing them to keep the Walker's attention on him. He reached on the ground for whatever his hands could grab, stones, rocks, fallen branches. Anything to keep it distracted while his brother was secretly freeing the wolves managing to get the Walker under the impression that he fled.

This time unaware of what's behind him, the back of his foot hit a larger rock impaled into the ground. Losing his balance and everything he was holding, Jon fell on his back. His widened in fear and terror of what he was about to become, gasping and trying to back away riping weeds and dirt throwing again whatever he could grab. The Walker reached out to him as he formed an x with his arms, one last unconscious form protection.

Letting out a wild, high pitched cry, one that made feel as if the inside of his ears were being grazed by sharp nails, bits of blue began to glow on random parts of the Walker's body. It fell to its hands and knees right above Jon. For a moment their eyes locked, black and blue. The young man was unable to breathe and he jerked back when it exploded in pieces covering him in ice bits.

Jon exhaled loudly, his heart beating to rip his chest as he remained on the ground a little longer, his legs without power to stand. He was shaking and crying at the same time, taking a moment for himself to gaze at the stars and look up at the sky with hope. "What are you doing out here?" Robb's angered shout brings out the curiosity in him, Jon raised on his forearms and notices for the first time something laying on his chest.

It was some kind of blade, a dagger, and a very nice looking one at that, tied to the tip of an arrow, the tip of the dagger peaking first. Jon took it in his trembling hand to examine it, impressed by the work, then raised his eyes and wheezed as he saw Arya standing with a bow lowered at her side in her hands. "You were in danger!" She shouted back. "Jon's life was in danger! I couldn't stand and knit by the fire I had to do something!"

"No, you were supposed to be asleep!" Robb retorts back being far angrier than Arya had ever seen him. "How could you risk yourself like that? What if it didn't work? What if something happened to you?" Then he grabbed her and wrapped his arms around her, his hand caressing the top of her head. "It's our duty to protect you. Not yours." He said on a much lower tone, calmer, trembling slightly.

"I never wanted to be a lady anyway." Arya replied snuggling into his chest closing her eyes. "I want to be a warrior just like you and Jon." And now more than anything, she wants to fight the White Walkers and keep her family safe.

"Arya, how did you know this was going to work?" Jon asked, refinding his voice, but stumbling over his words. Undoing the rope, he studied the blade turning it from one side to another. "Where did you even get this? This is Valyrian steel." He remembered someone, probably Ser Rodrick, telling him if Robb will inherit Winterfell then he will inherit his father's sword Ice. A sword made of Valyrian steel.

"I didn't." It was her response, parting from Robb. "I just assumed it." She said taking a moment to look at her feet before her eyes met Jon's. "I assumed that since it's the strongest metal then it can be the strongest weapon and take down the strongest enemy as well. It was just a guess." And she waited for another moment to answer his other question. "The imp gave it to me."

"How does Tyrion Lannister have a Valyrian steel blade?" Robb frowned, memories of his lessons invading his memory too. "Very few weapons are known to be made of it and none of them are in the Lannisters' possession." Most of them are gone. One is at Winterfell, one at the Night's Watch handled by the Lord Commander, and another in House Tarly's hold.

"I was practicing archery." Both of them looked at her in surprise, neither knowing her secret. Which is not one anymore. "He came to me after I was done and said he earned it after winning a bet against someone called Littlefinger. He told me that if I want to be a warrior then I need a weapon fitting my size and experience, so he gave the dagger to me saying it's useless on an imp."

"Arya you mustn't trust yourself in danger like this again." Jon panted holding his arm out for his brother to grab it and help him stand. "Now, you know they are real, so you know what they can do is real as well. You were lucky to make an educated guess, but you have to start training first if you want to start fighting." He wrapped his arm around his brother's shoulder. He hasn't recovered from the shock enough to walk on his own.

"I just saved your life!" Arya cried at him, outraged by what she was hearing, her eyes falling on Robb as well. "Both of your lives." Then she gestured at the two wolves. "Including Lady and Nymeria. You think I'm too young to fight but if weren't for me you'd both be dead." Once she heard her Nymeria was in danger all she knew was that she needed to destroy whatever was threatening her life.

"We're not saying you can't fight." There wasn't anyone who knew that better than Jon. "We're saying you first need to learn how to." He even managed to get in touch with the best blacksmith to get her a present. Arya dropped the bow onto the ground and turned around leaving without another word. "How did she even knew about this? Where to go and what to do? We were more than careful."

Robb drew in a sharp breath. "It seems I need to have some words with Sansa."

* * *

"What in the Seven's name were you thinking?" Robb hissed every word, trying his best not to start shouting in case he might wake someone up who could come barging in and asking questions as well. "Telling Arya we went off to fight a White Walker? What if a maid came by to see you? Would you have told her too? Do you even understand the danger that you just put her through?"

"Arya was already lurking around." Sansa argued back crossing her arms to her chest, raising her shoulders. "She came knocking on my door as soon as you left. I thought she might have something helpful or know something since all she does is lurk around the castle. I believed she could be useful to you and as it turns out I was right. Why are you so mad?"

"Because you put her in danger!" He cried out losing his temper as she moved a step back. "We're talking about real White Walkers here. Undead monsters that can turn you into them with just one touch! We were lucky we were able to kill but next time we might not have that kind of luck!"

"I wanted you to be safe!" Sansa shouted with tears in her eyes. "I wanted you to come back to me. And I was going to tie to anything that might make that happen."

Robb exhales loudly, his anger melting away. He brings his lips to her forehead into a tender kiss. "At least no one got hurt. But don't do that again, I can't focus if I know you or Arya are on the battlefield."

"And you killed a White Walker." She smiles up at him.

"And we killed a White Walker." He repeated bringing his lips down to meet hers.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drunk with their own hapiness, Robb and Sansa takes their relationship a step further.

When she hears the knocks on her door, she pretends to be asleep. It was very late and she knew she was not supposed to be awake if the sun wasn't. "Arya, it's alright. It's me." Getting out of the bed she opens the door for Jon and lets him in. "I'm not here to scold you, I promise." She wouldn't have minded him doing that anyway. She loves Jon and she knows that he won't yell at her about what she can and can't do.

Instead, he would rather sit her down and explain the consequences of her actions and reactions the best he can, letting her decide if the price is worth it or not. Just like their father does. Jon picked that from him. Father and her mother have been too busy for them lately. "Actually, I'm here to thank you." He smiles down at her and she rolls her eyes. Jon always loved teasing her about their height difference. "You saved my life out there."

To him, his life wasn't worth that much. But he's touched to know it means for her so much she risked it to save his. He loves her and now he knows that she loves him back. "You're my brother. I got your back, you got mine. Remember?" Jon grinned. How couldn't he? This was what he told her when they were playing with the other children, always teaming up or secretly doing it when the game was meant to be played individually.

"Yes... Listen, about this night." Placing his hands on her shoulders, he sat her down on the edge of her bed. "You were very brave to go into the fight like that, but no one outside the four of us can know what happened. People will lose their minds over it. I searched over the castle because I couldn't fall asleep." Not after he nearly became a White Walker. He stared directly into Death's eyes tonight. "And I saw that we don't have any dragonglass at all."

If the Army of Dead invaded now, the entire population of the North would be turned into corpses by sunrise with no survivors. "We don't have any kind of protection against them. We'd only do more bad than good. As long as they remain wandering in the Forbidden Forest, we're safe where we are now." Jon tonight became determined to go to the Wall and take the black. He only had to finish first Arya's present and find a way to gently break it to her.

"How about you get some rest now? We've both had a long night." Pressing a goodnight kiss to her forehead, Jon left without another word. He didn't get too far from her room when he heard a voice speaking from behind.

"What's the matter?" Theon was casually leaning against the wall dressed in sleeping clothes that hung on him. "You had a nightmare and went to see someone about it, but Robb wasn't willing to put up with you?" Despite always being moody, cranky, and sad, it's not that Theon doesn't like him... He just doesn't appreciate how he, a highborn lord, is mistreated compared to him. A bastard.

The truth is... Theon would probably like Jon more if he wasn't a bastard. He would definitely like him more if he wasn't around as often as he was. It irked his skin to know that there is something going on involving the Stark siblings and that they involved Jon immediately while he remained in the dark completely. It made Theon dislike him even more.

Jon grabs his neck and pushes him into the wall. "Say one word about what you just saw. And I'll cut your throat in front of everyone in the middle of the day." The scandal that could be caused if word got out he paid a nightly visit to the Lord's youngest daughter in her room when she was all alone would make Lady Catelyn have his head at dinner.

And Theon was a known blabbermouth.

* * *

Their night did not end with that kiss. For the first time, they took things even further drunk with their own happiness. Robb for taking down, more like participating than giving the last blow although he doesn't mind the outcome either, a myth that proved itself to be true which he's going to be out of his mind with worry in the morning but right now he doesn't care one bit. Sansa because the man she loved came back to her alive and well.

Somehow, at some moment, the kiss ceased to be just a kiss. It became more heated, needier, the two being closer than it was possible and still left wanting more. The change was easy to spot if one looked careful enough. He was holding her tighter than he usually did, an arm under her back as well as if just be sure she won't go away. She was hooked around him, so to speak. He had furs that clung to him less.

Somewhere down the road, he began to remove his tunic until he lost it from his hands and found it on the floor. It became suddenly a burden too hard to bear. He chose to blame it on the heat, the fire that burned until he came to her for the first time in that night, all the running and dodging he did tonight, all the emotions he went through, all of them together perhaps. Who can tell for real?

Some way, Sansa's white gown fell off of her shoulders exposing far more of her milk skin than she ever showed outside these walls. The fabric remained a little above her breasts, but her hardened nipples told that it was just a matter of time until they were going to be exposed. Given that she was sixteen, for her age they were rather small, yet the most beautiful round uncolored apples Robb had seen.

He saw women, when he went with Theon into a tavern, pushing out their cleavage while pouring his ale not enough to satisfy but enough to leave him wanting more. He saw them naked from head to toe, almost throwing themselves at him, when he went to retrieve Theon from different brothels in Winter Town for various reasons. He told himself he would not bring shame to his House like that.

He knew that one time Jon tried to lay with one, but backed down in the last moment saying he couldn't risk fathering a bastard. Much to his shame, Robb had fallen for the temptation Jon resisted. Her name was something that reminded him of his. He had forgotten her name because he wanted to forget her and what he had done. He could remember only her red hair. Not like Sansa's. But for him, it was good enough.

He was inexperienced on every ground and she was kind enough not to laugh at him. She took her time to teach him, tell him what to do, where to kiss her, where to aim, what women truly like in bed and what are made up lies. After they were done, Robb remembers only that. She told him he was welcomed to come back anytime he wanted. He gave her far more than he owned her and said if she says anything to anyone, he will cut her throat himself.

A part of him will always be ashamed of what he had done, falling into the temptation, listening to his needs, when he should have fought harder. But another part of him doesn't regret the experience. It was, without doubt, the best thing he has ever felt, the warm touches, the wet cunt, the sound of skin slapping, watching her tits bounce as she rode him into oblivion. He loved it and he hated himself for it.

Now, he holds no shame. Now, he's capable of doing that with the girl he's in love with. He knows what to do to bring her pleasure because, that much he knew by himself, her first time will hurt her more than it will hurt him. At first, he teases with his fingers, without breaking their kiss, over the gown and small clothes, he brings his hand to her most intimate place and she arches into his touch, her breath hitching.

The other hand cups her breasts. It grabs and squeezes them, enjoying how the flesh fits in it. His thumb brushes over her nipple and rubs on it until from soft it becomes hard. "Do you feel good?" He asks to know how much further they can get. She nods feverously shutting her eyes as her lower body arched into his hand again. "Does it feel good?" He needs to know that. The last thing he wants to do in this life is to hurt her in any shape or form.

"Feel strange." Sansa gasps, breathing heavily. "But good strange. And warm." So warm. There is no need to start a fire when her body feels like that on its own. These touches were foreign to her. And in some peculiar way, her body moves on its own doing for her what she wanted and didn't know. And somehow it is not enough. Somehow her body knows there is more than this and it wants it. It wants it badly. 

"Any moment you don't feel good, you tell me and we stop." Robb tells her rubbing his cheek against hers. "I won't lie. It will hurt. It will pass, but it will really hurt you." As far he heard, breaking her maiden will hurt her like nothing else has or will. "I'm sorry I can't take the pain upon myself. I would if I could." It is a unique type of feeling. Just like your first wound, some say. But the pleasure that comes afterward, they continued, it feels just like your first kill.

He brings down his lips to her jaw intending to leave no inch of her gorgeous skin feel unloved. He looks up at her silently for her permission to go lower, there was nothing about what they're going to do. The least he can do is to make sure he has her permission before he tries anything, make sure she feels nothing but pleasure. Their eyes meet and he sees in hers nothing but trust.

So he goes lower.

 


	27. Chapter 27

If you would've asked the young lord, exactly a year ago, on this very day and moment of it, what would he need in order to feel truly content like his mother does whenever she is in his father's presence and they're simply sitting together enjoying each other's company, he would've most likely responded with things that seem a bit foolish now such as 'a hunting with a wild chase', 'winning a sword fight against known knights in the public's eye' or 'the day he will be called the Lord of Winterfell'.

Now, a year later, finds that the only thing he needs to feel truly content, the one thing that makes him feel like he knows true happiness and had the rare chance to touch it and grasp it is this... a castle chamber, poorly lit because most of the candles have melted into hot wax, a bed, and his beloved in his arms with the two of them for once not being pressured by time or necessary duties that require their presence, but simply being in each other's presence. Enjoying each other's company.

Strange as it is, he knows how his mother feels whenever she is in his father's presence (because his father cannot be a good ruler and an emotive one at the same time, although when he is in the presence of his family and only his closest friends, very few at that, he allows himself to be more empathic) because he feels the same way whenever he is in his sister's presence. Somewhere, somehow, Sansa had taken his heart and refused to give it back.

Not that he wanted it. She can have it, now and always, forever and ever. It is hers as long and as much as hers it is his.

Sansa has constantly been an absolute need in his life, whether he needed her as a child because he had no one else to play with and he was bored, or when he needed her to fix some of his clothes ripped during training or a nastier fall than usual because there was nothing her delicate fingers couldn't fix with a such a divine touch you wouldn't have been able to tell it had an imperfection once.

Sometimes he needed her because only her smile could make him forget whatever he was angry or distressed about in the first place. Sometimes only her eyes were the one able to see through him, it was both frightening and engrossing. Robb realized early that Sansa had a sharp eye. It wasn't trained well, but the skill to spot something rotten that would pass by most people unseen was there. He plans to train that eye and have her stay in Winterfell as his loyal advisor.

He is not ashamed to admit that sometimes when his father gave him work to do, anything that held a more political status rather than physical activity, he would confide in her and even ask her for her opinion. When Robb openly admitted it to his father, Theon, who overheard it, snickered, Maester Luwin looked at the floor, and Jon was so surprised that he froze the soup spoon mid-air.

His father congratulated him for keeping such a close relationship with his younger sister, confessed he was glad that there was no bad blood between them despite their differences, but advised him at the same time to keep being proud of the help he receives from her, yet not to share this with everyone in sight. People can get envious. They can start doubting his choices once he's Lord of Winterfell since women aren't seen in their times as anything more than children makers.

Enemies can turn her into their main target in order to take him down if they know she's the one who's helping him with his decisions... The last thing Robb wants to do is to hurt her or unintentionally target her. His father advises him to be more restricted with whom he chooses to confess his more personal thoughts and feelings but to never change his relationships to avoid people talking. It often leads to self-destruction and Ned loves his son too much to see him going that path.

"You're so beautiful." He shares his thoughts with her as he adores her porcelain skin with his lips. "And I love you like no one else." He shares his feels with her and gives the tiniest but most genuine smile watching with his own eyes her happiness flowing through her as she listens to his words. "And I swear I will keep doing so until I give my last breath." He doesn't know what the Gods hold in the future for them. It can't be anything good. "Even beyond."

He enters her in one swift move. He thought if he went in slowly it would only make her feel more pain than pleasure. For him it feels like he was on a long journey, away with a secret mission that no one knows about, those who do are long dead, and horrendous, tiresome, nearly impossible tasks, he's finally home. Robb realizes at that moment that they were meant to be. They were meant to be born together and live together to eventually fall in love. Targaryen traits be damned, she was his very missing part. 

There is a folk tale, one of Maester Luwin's most preferred. Old Nan likes to share the darker ones, but Maester Luwin had an affinity for the lighter ones. One of them was a legend about how men and women used to be and how they came to be. It says that people were originally created with four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, the Seven split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves. Robb has found his.

On the other hand, it crushes him to see Sansa in so much pain, nearly reduced to tears. One leaked out and he gently wiped it away, contemplating about pulling out and do this some other night, but then decides against it because he doesn't want to cause her more pain. Something inside him crumbles as he understands that compared to what he felt when he pushed in, she was on the opposite side. He expected this, he knew it was going to be painful for her.

But it is one thing to know what is about to happen and another to actually see it with your own eyes.

Making up his mind to stop this torture he caused her, he gently touches her cheek letting her know he still loves her the same in case she might misunderstand his actions. Looks up at her in surprise when her hand grabs the back of his neck and pulls his face to hers. She lets out a pained gasp and before he can say anything to reassure her, she fiercely kisses him putting all of her want and need of him in it. "No." She pants with a slight shake of her head, delicately caressing his cheek.

"I want this." Sansa nods to herself, the pain was nothing like she had ever felt before, but her love for Robb was even bigger. "And I want you." And no one else but him, consequences be damned he was her man and the only love she will ever know. "And I want to do this with you. Only you can make me feel good." Only him can erase all of her pain. Only him can put her at ease when she's agitated. Robb is everything she ever wants in one body and soul.

Robb opens his mouth to speak and ends up letting out a choked chuckle. Perhaps he underestimated all his life the strength of women and their pain support. Never again. "My strong, brave, lady." He makes his first movement, slightly pulling back and then back in while intently watching her reaction. This time she does not seem to be in the same amount of pain she was a moment ago. It's a good sign. He does it again, but this time pulls out a little bit more before pushing back in.

She lets out a choked gasp and her teeth find his shoulder, her hips urging him to keep going. It takes a couple of movements like that before the pain becomes bearable and another feeling begins to take over as well. She doesn't know what it is. She is sweated, naked, hot, her hair is a sprawled mess and somehow any terms related to bad are not what she's feeling. She smiles against his skin as he rolls his hips inside her once more. Only Robb can make her feel good.

Their blue eyes find each other as his movements quicken and he thrusts a little bit faster, a little bit harder, knowing now that they are on the same page. She is enjoying this nearly as much as he does now. She's feeling good and loved and that's all that matters. When he's getting to slow for her, she meets his thrusts as the strange feeling inside her stomach gets more demanding. He can only oblige to her unspoken command and he goes harder, biting his lip to keep out the moans.

He tastes his own blood as he gives her his hand to bite on when her whimpers and muffled moans get too loud. Robb picks the speed groaning harder. The fact that her teeth nearly dug into his bones doesn't help either. There is strange build-up he feels inside himself and despite getting worn out, numb, and hotter than a small fire, he doesn't want to give up until he reaches it. He notices it goes the same for her with every time her hips meet his thrusts.

They slow down to regain some of their lost strength and then Robb picks up the speed again, slapping his thighs against hers, reaching hard for that feeling building up. He nearly has his hands on it. He's so close. Just a little bit more. Harder. Faster. "Fuck!" Robb growls out, throwing his head back as he explodes inside her. His palm unconsciously covers her mouth as she screams her release into it.

"We need to get you some Moon Tea." He pants, collapsed by her side, but still inside her. He heard from Theon that women often get pregnant directly from their first time because that's when their body works its best out. They are too young, too inexperienced with life, expected to do some great things in future times, siblings, and the last thing they need right now is a child on the way.

He only hopes she will not take this the wrong way, as a decline of their love now that she gave him what made her unique.

"I can get us some." She replies holding him close, refusing to let go even an inch of him. Sweat is running down her temples. "But at this moment, I only want to be with you."

He can give her that.

 


End file.
